Bound
by Starbuck0322
Summary: Richard Castle returns home late one evening to discover he is not alone.
1. The Intruder

**BOUND by Starbuck0322**

_Chapter One: The Intruder_

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It is late in the evening when Richard Castle returns home from work. The events of the past few days treading heavily across his thoughts. The smell, the sick of the dead, seemingly cling to his clothing. He shakes his head attempting to be rid of their memory.

On most days, the idea of following Detective Kate Beckett on her daily routines was fascinating, appealing to his gruesome personality. True in many ways it gave him the tools of the trade, in order to write his fiction, in order to get into the heads of the sickos, the weirdos and the downright dirtbags of New York. Getting to spend his every aching moment with Beckett, day in day out, was the best part of his forced arrangement. But on days like today death and murder, seemed to overshadow his longing for her; especially when murder involved children.

When he first began his little games with Beckett he had been uncertain how thick one's stomach had to be in order to be in the presence of death. While he tried his best to remain cool on the outside, making wisecracks left and right, his stomach was always in knots. He was always simply amazed at how people did these sort of things to one another; revenge, greed, obsession, power. But when it came to children, he simply wondered how the world could be so cruel. And with every innocent death, his world seemed a little darker. True, he thinks to himself, the world of murder and mystery was a lot easier to write about than to live through.

He makes his way to the kitchen, drawing a bottle of wine from the cooler, taking a sip allowing the liquid to assault his wit.

The victim this time, a 15 year old girl, found among an array of teddy bears and other stuffed animals. A tiara placed on her head, the words "WHAT'S NEXT?" carved in her chest. The young girl's red hair stabbing at his memory; how he had seen his own Alexis lying there, a look of torture and terror on her face.

He begins to take dreaded steps toward his office when suddenly the power goes out, the steady hum of the apartment falling to dead silence.

"Shit," he says to himself, turning, changing his direction, taking new steps down the hall to the fuse box. Perhaps if he was lucky it would just be a bump. But as he inches down the hall he notices the small door to the fuse box ajar, the door to his bedroom partly open. And as he stops abruptly trying to steady his nerves, he hears it, small and subtle; a muffle coming from inside his room.

Socked feet tread lightly across to his door. His head throbbing, he pushes his bedroom door fully open.

In the dim lighting he can make out a figure, tall and dark, standing directly behind a chair. Another figure is seated.

"Mr. Castle," says the gruff voice of the stranger, "So good of you to join us."

And as Castle's eyes adjust to the events before him, fear strikes him. For seated in the chair bound by expert knots is Detective Kate Beckett, hands and feet tied to the arms and legs of the chair, a gag in her mouth, a large knife to her throat.

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_A/N: Ok, so the truth is, I'm a sucker for the comfort/tragedy storylines... hope you enjoy them as much as I do._

_Next chapter coming soon..._


	2. The Critic

_Chapter 2: The Critic_

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Richard Castle frightened to make any sudden movements, unearths the nerve to say something. "Whatever it is you want..." he swallows, a hard lump forming in his throat," and then, "I have money. A lot of money."

Castle looks to Kate Beckett, a silent prayer on his lips, but she is looking to the ceiling, eyes cringing in pain.

The figure begins a low chuckle, filling the room in an uncomfortable humour. "Oh my dear Ricky," he says while turning the knife blade against Beckett's throat, "This is not about money. Not even in the slightest."

Growing impatient, Castle adds, "Then what is it that you want."

"Isn't it obvious? I'm crazy, Richard. Crazy to the bone." He leans down to smell the top of Beckett's head, the knife pushing her skin inward slightly. She inhales. "Do normal people hunt down and kidnap detectives? Do they break into buildings of famous writers?" He pauses shaking his head, "Which was all difficult, let me tell you."

When Castle does not answer, the stranger adds, "Tell me Mr. Castle, do normal people go through all this trouble just to have a little fun?"

"My guess would be no," Castle says. He looks to Beckett but she still has not moved. Her body twisted uncomfortably toward her attacker.

The stranger moves behind the chair now, releasing Beckett, the knife calmly pressed against her shoulder, "You must tell me Ricky, how did you like my little present?"

Castle remains silent, unmoving, continuing to search the stranger's face. He does not move toward her. Does not dare to create any difficulties. His back straight, he continues to keep his focus.

"The little red head. Was she accurate enough?"

Castle is lost for words and stares dumbfounded. His calm collected exterior melting away, leaving behind a shaking hand, a wobbly knee. The gift? The little girl died because of him?

"Not impressed with your present, eh Castle. Well maybe this one," he pauses looking down to Beckett, twisting the knife lightly into her shoulder, the light flooding in from the street catching it, "Maybe you'll enjoy this one a little more." He's leaning down, speaking into Beckett's ear. "I know I will." He kisses the side of her face, and Beckett muffles something back.

Castle takes a step toward him, hoping the stranger has not noticed. Beckett's assailant looks up quickly, the knife returning to her throat. Handcuffs are tossed in Castle's direction, falling to the floor in front of him, "Put them on Richard. We don't want any problems."

Finally Beckett looks to Castle. Caution in her eyes. Silent instructions.

Castle puts them on reluctantly, loose, his hands in front of him.

"Do you have a name?" It is Castle's blatant attempt at a normal conversation; an attempt to pull the attention away from the steady knife to her throat.

"You can call me a fan, Richard," he says placing his hands on her shoulders, the knife free from her throat. "I have been following you for quite some time now. Truth is, I miss Derek. But this new Detective, WOW! I think she has something that Derek never did.

"It didn't take me long to find this muse of yours, and you know Castle," he continues, leaning down, pulling Beckett's head back to brush his tongue across her cheek, "to tell you the truth, you did not do her justice, so much more delicious in person" he says while wiping his mouth.

Castle cringes, taking another step forward. The stranger notices and leaves Beckett's side.

"I've read your latest book Richard," his footsteps falling heavy across the floor, eyes dark and wild, blocking the light in the room, casting Castle in shadow.

"And what did you think," Richard says looking at him, eyes wide in the darkness.

He is waving the knife in Castle's direction now. "I'm not impressed. A total lack of detail." He stands a few feet in front of Castle, knife steady, Castle looking down at him, sizing him up, "But where are my manners."

A throaty chuckle and the stranger pulls a chair, offering it to Castle, sliding it across the floor.

Castle is motionless, and stares at the chair. He cannot give into this man. Cannot let him hold all of the cards, and as he looks to Beckett he realizes sadly, that he is without a plan. The stranger holding the entire deck.

"I suggest you sit Mr. Castle," motioning back to Beckett, "I don't think you're going to feel like standing for much longer".

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_More to come soon... Thanks for reading... loving the feedback... :)_


	3. Taking Notes

_Chapter Three: Taking Notes_

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Castle sits, and reluctantly asks, "So if it's not money, what is it that you want exactly?"

The stranger is careful not to turn his back on Castle and begins.

"We're going to play a little game Richard." He turns his attention away from Castle, leaning down to Beckett, his lips inches from her ear, "And unfortunately for you my dear, I don't think you're going to like it too much."

Castle is silent, looking at Beckett, his heartrate quickening, fury heavy, uncontrollable, flooding his veins.

"The rules are simple. I have a little fun with your detective here, and you get to sit there and watch."

He draws the knife on her again running the thick blade lightly down from her ear, across her throat, to her chest, resting against the first button to her blouse.

Castle's attention is on the blade now, Beckett's chest rising quickly. He cannot tell the severity of her injuries.

"About the book Richard," slicing the first of Beckett's buttons, the knife inching its way further down her blouse. "Research is the most important tool to any writer." The stranger continues his motions; button by button being sliced to the floor, making a tiny sound as they hit the hardwood, "And as you can see," the stranger continues, slicing the last button exposing Beckett, clad in lacy black bra, to the cold air in the room, "You did not do her justice."

Castle sees the opportunity to edge forward, but in one swift movement, the stranger has the blade to Beckett's throat, placing a small cut to the side of her jaw. Beckett, her scream muffled by the gag in her mouth, straightens her back and Castle is once again motionless, at the mercy of her attacker.

The stranger's voice loudly fills the room, the knife twisting again at her throat, "PLEASE! Mr. Castle! There are consequences for your actions. For godsakes don't try to be a hero!" The stranger is breathing heavily, the knife steady at Beckett's throat.

He looks to Castle who has not obeyed his orders.

"Sit DOWN!" the stranger shouts, hands shaking. Beckett twists painfully in her seat.

Castle swallows, the lump in his throat restricting, his eyes wandering to a tiny trail of blood running down her neck.

Her assailant closes his eyes, but only for an instant, inhaling deeply. Pulling back Beckett's head by her hair, he moves swiftly, in a constant steady motion, ridding Beckett of her bra, slicing it down the middle. Beckett squirms as the blade scratches her skin, sound emitting from her throat.

The stranger looks to Castle who in turn stares at him, refusing to look at Beckett. The stranger agitated with Castle, taps the knife violently against his leg. He edges across the room pointing the knife at Castle.

"OH NO RICHARD! I said you were going to look. You are going to take notes." Grabbing Castle's face, he points it in the direction of Detective Beckett. "You _will_ look at her."

The stranger takes a moment, keeping Castle's head in his hands. He stares at Beckett who has lowered her head to her chest, a trail of blood continuing to find its way down her skin.

He sighs. "Isn't she a beauty, Richard."

Castle says nothing but continues to stare at the man inches from his face. The intruder turns his attention back to Castle and shakes his head.

"Isn't this what you wanted Richard? Isn't this what you were looking for all along. Well she's real Richard, real as real can be." The stranger's breathing increasing, he adds, " I don't get you. What's the point in following her around if you're only going to screw it up in the first place."

He pauses breathing heavily, his lips close to Castle's ear. "Maybe a few slashes will get your attention." He releases his face, resting the knife on Castle's shoulder, wiping the blade back and forth on his shirt, "How about a little more blood of the muse to hearken the mood, eh Castle?"

As the stranger begins to take steps away from him, Castle stands reaching out for the intruder but is shocked when there is a loud _smash_ and the stranger falls to the floor in a heap of flesh, the knife falling by his side.

Castle turns to see his mother, Martha, standing behind him, breathing heavily she utters, "Well, I guess I still have it in me."

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_Now comes the fun part..._


	4. Release

_Chapter 4: Release_

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"Mother," Castle says, turning to Martha, silently asking her to focus. "Call Detectives Esposito and Ryan." She nods slowly backing out of the room, eyes wild.

Castle rises quickly, swiftly crossing the floor to kneel in front of Beckett. Releasing her mouth of the gag, she breathes heavily. He is careful to be discreet, to keep his focus on her eyes which refuse to meet his own. His hands furiously fumbling with the knots at her hands and feet.

"In my pocket Castle," Eyes big and green, she stares at the intruder on the floor. He is puzzled for a second but she continues, "Keys for the cuffs."

His hands travel to her pocket, awkwardly pulling a black pouch, releasing a key. As he works on his locks, his eyes travel back to her diverting, fumbling, reaching her throat, traces of blood running down her neck. He releases the cuffs in an instant and moves back to the intruder, reluctantly grabbing his arms, cuffing his hands behind his back. The stranger murmurs something, a low groan from the throat. Castle takes a second to look at him and kicks the knife further across the floor. Fury rising within him again, he settles his violent urges.

"Castle?" Beckett says quietly.

"Hmmm?"

"A little help."

He looks to her shaking his head, "Right."

Castle turns back to Beckett, hands heatedly finishing the remaining knots which bind her to the chair. She reaches for him before he has a chance to fully rid her of her bonds, pulling on his shoulder, a hand grasping the pieces of her clothing together, her knuckles white. He finishes the bonds on her feet, and his hands support her, pulling her into a standing position.

He lets her stand on her own, giving her weight a try, but she instantly falls forward, forcing her own body toward the stranger, knees weak, eyes dark and wild. His grasp on her tightens, catching her, an arm encircling her middle, fully supporting her weight, guiding her away from her attacker.

"Come on," he says softly, bringing her to his bed. Her focus still intense.

Castle leaves her to sit, the lights flickering on. A small bed lamp illuminates, casting Beckett in soft light.

He returns with a shirt, placing it beside her, a first aid kit in hand. "Lie back," he instructs her, propping up several pillows.

She looks at him, their eyes meeting for the first time, her lip curled slightly up.

"Please," he says, "Let me take a look at you."

He brushes a hand across her cheek, gently pulling her hair away from her features, and she closes her eyes for a second, leaning into his hand. Her eyes open slightly faced away from Castle. His hands travel to hers, soft on her skin, silently instructing her to relax. They travel to her collar pulling her clothing back gently, pulling out a swab, carefully cleaning her wound. She inhales quickly, looking down at his expert hands, tenderly working on her. Soft skin revealed to him, expertly concealing her embarrassment. The touch of a perfect gentleman.

"Didn't think it would happen quite like this, eh Castle."

He says nothing but offers an uncomfortable smile, looking up to her for a second, then turning back to his work.

"For what its worth," she continues, "I thought you had me pretty accurate."

"You finished it? My book?" He asks matter-of-factly. He is not surprised.

"I did," her hands finally releasing their grip on her shirt. His work travelling the length of her chest. Her skin rising at the cold swab as he wipes away traces of the attack.

"And what did you really think?" he asks, searching for clues. "Of my Nikki Heat?"

"She's smart. Good looking. Witty. Sassy. A real kickass detective if I must say so myself." She smiles at him, an eyebrow raising. "And well Castle, she's... she's..."

"Extraordinary?" A genuine smile on his face now, repeating words spoken not so long ago.

She blushes slightly. "I was going to say a little slutty."

Their quiet laughter fills the silence of the room, offering new life. But it is not long before his hands are dropping, falling to her side. He holds her hips gently, she jerking at his movement.

"I'm sorry for this." His head shaking. "This is all my fault." His face now distraught.

She shakes her head pulling her body toward him, placing her hands around his neck, pulling him into her. Her breath soft against his ear, she says, "This is not your fault Rick." A deep breath and, "Don't think that."

He shakes and rests his head against hers, lips close to her ear, he whispers, "He knew where to find you. You could have been seriously hurt. I don't know what I would have..." His voice trails off. Her arms tightening around him.

They remain like this for quite some time before there is knocking on the door to his apartment and they hear his mother allowing entrance to two detectives. The familiar voices of Detectives Esposito and Ryan filling the apartment with new sound.

Beckett slowly releases her hands from the base of Castle's neck returning to her blouse, head low, forehead pressed against his chest. Castle's hands falling gently down her back.

"I'm ok, Rick," she says lifting her head, her eyes meeting his, exploring his features, "Honest."

Castle liberates a sigh reaching for his clean shirt handing it to Beckett again. She smiles at him taking the garment and offers, "Thanks."

As Castle heads to the door, he turns slightly looking back at Beckett. Her back to him, she stands. He can see her hesitation as she begins to remove her torn shirt, the stiffness in her shoulders as the garment falls to the floor, revealing her back to him, red and irritated, remains of the struggle that occurred before Castle had arrived. He wishes to go to her, to comfort and hold her but he knows that she must do this on her own and that she would reveal the events of earlier this evening in good time.

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_Thanks again for all the reviews... I love you guys!_

_More to come... :) __I promised you comfort... and comfort you shall get..._


	5. Clutch

_Chapter 5: Clutch_

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As Richard Castle exits the room, his eyes fall to the stranger still sprawled on the floor, shattered remains of the crystal vase scattered around him. Detectives Ryan and Esposito see Castle standing in the hallway and head to meet him.

"Castle," Esposito says motioning to him, "I hear Mrs. R was quite the big hero."

"She certainly was." Castle admits looking to his mother, who is now standing by his side. He takes an arm and places it around her. "She learned everything she knows from me."

Martha one arm encircling her son, head cocked, looks up to Castle, "I beg your pardon," a hand out motioning toward Detective Esposito, "I owe everything to Dennis Franz. Did I tell you I did a NYPD Blue once?"

"I don't believe you have told me Mrs. R," Esposito says smiling.

While Martha begins to tell a tale from the set, Ryan looks to the floor, to the intruder and then to the back of the room where Beckett, dressed in Castle's buttoned shirt is now sitting on the bed, her back facing the door.

"She ok?" Ryan asks lowering his voice, taking a step toward Castle.

Castle, whose gaze has also wandered to the back of the room, looks to Ryan, nodding, a slight smile on his lips, "She's ok."

He can hear the uncertainty in his voice. Fear that he has declared too much, revealed more than he should, making Beckett seem weak to her male counterparts. Ryan enters the room kicking aside fragments of glass, his fingers feeling the side of the intruder's neck. "He's alive at least." He says looking to Martha whose hand comes to her chest.

"What did I not hit him hard enough?"

Castle takes a second to look to Esposito who has found his way to the back of the room, talking quietly with Detective Beckett, sitting beside her, her head falls to the side of his shoulder. The gesture is short, touching.

Ryan looks up from the stranger to Esposito, "We better get this processed."

Esposito joins Ryan, both grabbing one arm each of the intruder; he mumbles something, legs moving beneath him as he is forced from the bedroom.

As he crosses paths with Castle and his mother, he looks up slowly, eyes attempting to focus. "Remember what I taught you Mr. Castle. Make sure you make good use of that muse of yours. Make sure to have your fun now. I look forward--"

Before the stranger has a chance to utter anything further, a hard fist makes contact with his nose, blood instantly spewing over the hand of Richard Castle.

Castle pulls his hand back, the stranger beginning to laugh.

"My nose!" he declares, "Richard Castle broke my nose! I can die a happy man!"

The house returns to its quiet state as Castle enters his bedroom to find Beckett remaining in the same position as he left her. He heads to face her, her hands placed in her lap. He kneels down in front of her placing a quickly bruising hand carefully on her own, his knuckles easily torn.

She is pulled from her reverie, but stares at his hands, turning them so his hands are in hers. She looks up at him concerned, but all she finds is a smile on his face, and a slight shrug of the shoulders. He reaches down to remove her shoes. She looks to him confused.

"Let's tuck you in Detective," he says finally reaching up to pull back the sheets on the bed. She does not hesitate for long and accepts his hand as he helps her up, guiding into the sheets. He draws the covers over her, his hands gently rubbing circles on her back, touching her face, pushing her hair aside. She closes her eyes at his touch and he continues to draw small circles up and down her back and side, focusing on the soft sound of Beckett's breathing. He moves for only a second, away from her body and her eyes shoot open looking up at him. They hold their gaze for quite some time before he asks, "Do you want me to stay with you for a bit."

She says nothing but nods and he smiles to her, returning his hands and fingers to her body, drawing lines, feeling the curves of her back. His hands travel the length of her with each movement travelling further down the length of her body and he relishes at the feeling of his hands on the soft skin of her neck, travelling down her shoulder to her hands, entangling his fingers in hers. He reaches beside her to turn out the light beside the bed, as the world around them falls to comfortable darkness.

Her breathing steady and soft, he raises a leg over her body, curling himself in behind her, drawing her into him, warmly pressed against her back. His nose finds the back of her neck, his lips kissing the soft skin of her nape. She sighs again, pushing her body firmly against him, allowing sleep to take her over.

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_Many thanks yet again for the reviews... you are marvelous!_

_More to come soon... I promise..._


	6. Awakening

_Chapter 6: Awakening_

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Detective Kate Beckett awakens startled, eyes opening wide, sunlight streaming in through the open window in the bedroom of Richard Castle. She is lying face down, held tightly. Soft, warm hands up her shirt, she turns her head letting out a breath.

Richard Castle lies beside her. Sensing her movement his fingers begin to move on her skin, slow and gentle, moving to her side, in an attempt to get closer to her. His eyes still closed, he does not react to her when she utters, "Castle?"

"Hmm", he utters and pulls himself closer to her, so he is resting against her body.

"Richard," she calls out softly, afraid to move.

At last he opens his eyes, blinking furiously, fingers still moving against her skin. Suddenly realizing his predicament, he releases his grasp on her, pulling his hand from her shirt, taking the time to run his hand over her back as he pulls himself from her body.

"Good morning Detective," he greets, hands pulled to his face, fingers rubbing his eyes. He rolls onto his back and looks to the clock beside him remarking the time.

"Good morning," she says rolling away from him, pulling herself into a sitting position. He notices her stiffness, hands slowly being brought to her hair, scratching lightly. She runs a hand down her face to her throat at the bandage he applied the night before.

His eyes intent on her, he says, "You should let me take a look at that."

She turns back to him a quirky smile on her face, "Oh right, you and what medical training?"

"I am talented in many ways as they say."

As she stands to leave his side, a hand reaches out lightly grabbing hold of her arm, and he adds, "Lie back down".

She is hesitant at first but he tugs lightly, and she abides allowing him to pull her to the bed once more, relishing again at the warmth and comfort.

He pulls himself into a sitting position beside her, her breathing increasing as his fingers touch her skin. He gently pulls back the bandage to reveal her wound in the sunlight. He reaches for the kit beside him, where he had left it the previous night, and fumbling through finds the tools he requires.

He notices her chest rising and falling as his fingers pull back her clothing. He looks to her face for acceptance as he moves to unbutton her top most button. She does not look at him but closes her eyes in the sunlight. His fingers, his touch, like lightning on her skin.

"How does it look?" she asks moments later, finally reaching his eyes.

"Are you asking for my medical opinion?"

"Whatever Castle?"

He smiles back at her, and remarks, "It looks just fine".

He finishes his work, moving to re-button her top button when her hands reach his and hold them in her own. "Thank you", she says.

He looks down at her, hair sprayed out on his pillow, silently wishing these were better circumstances. But she pushes herself up with her elbows releasing his hands, letting her legs fall over the edge of the bed. There is a comfortable silence between them when she interrupts it to lean into him, letting a hand reach his face, drawing him toward her. Her lips meet his, brief and gentle. Slowly she pulls them apart, looking into his eyes, and then quickly back to his lips, places another soft kiss.

She looks away, hands shaking, and as he notices, she places them in her lap.

"Castle," she begins, "Do me a favour and not mention this to anyone?" She looks back to him, seeing him nod, "Anyone at the station."

He gives her a wide grin but does not say anything, and when true to her nature, she raises an eyebrow and cocks her head in Detective fashion, he nods saying, "You have my word. Quiet as a mouse."

She smiles standing, pausing in her quiet steps to ask, "Do you mind if I shower?"


	7. Washed Away

_Chapter 7: Washed Away_

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The sun now up to its fullest, the night's rain storm a distant memory, Richard Castle stands in his kitchen, dressed in apron, spatula in hand. The batter sizzling in the pan, he flips remarking at the golden brown excellence of his creation. The silence in the room is broken by the footsteps of Martha Rogers.

"Hey kiddo," she says, Castle looks up from his work to acknowledge her. She is already dressed for the day; a shawl falling across her shoulders, neck adorned with jewels. Castle wonders to himself if he has ever seen her dressed in sleepwear, a housecoat, fuzzy slippers. Martha Rogers always seemed ready for the day.

"Good morning Mother," he says smiling, returning his spatula to the pan.

Martha reaches for a mug on the counter, offering it to Castle. "What do we have this morning?" she asks as Castle reaches for the coffee pot with his free hand. "A hero's breakfast?" She looks over the counter into the pan and smiles warmly. "Strawberry, happy face pancakes?" she asks. She glances behind her, looking up the stairs. Turning back to him she asks, "Alexis is home?"

Castle smirks, keeping his eyes on his work, flipping another golden pancake. "Nope, still at her sleepover."

Martha is quiet for a second before realization sinks in; her face turning a wide smile. "Oh," she says nodding, "I see. And where is the delightful Detective Beckett?"

Castle's smile grows wider, "Having a shower."

Martha sits on the stool in front of him, bringing her body forward to lean toward her son. "And you are?" She asks motioning with her hands in a circular motion.

"Making her breakfast," Castle says matter-of-factly, looking up at his mother, spatula raised in her direction.

"You know kiddo," Martha sighs, sipping from her mug, "I always knew you needed to set your priorities straight when it came to her. I told you-" Martha's speech is cut short by another pair of footsteps falling behind her. They turn slowly to find Kate Beckett standing fully dressed, complete with leather jacket.

"Good morning," she says shyly, taking a tiny step to stand in their presence.

"Good morning," Martha returns, "How are you feeling?"

Beckett lowers her head, nodding, "Much better," a deep breath and then finally looking up, "thank you."

Martha returns a smile but says nothing.

"Castle," Beckett begins, "I just wanted to say thank you for your hospitality," she takes a tiny step back, clasping her hands together, "I'll see you later? Down at the station?" When Castle does not say anything, she nods her head turning toward the door.

"Whoa. Whoa." Castle retorts, removing his apron, putting down his spatula. He reaches her almost instantly, turning her around to face him. Arms holding her shoulders, he asks, "Where do you think you're going?"

She looks up at him slightly, quietly saying, "I told you, I'm going to work. I have a few things I'd like to do."

Castle shakes his head, pulling her slightly toward him, "But I made you breakfast."

She meets his eyes, saddened, "I'm sorry but I need to get to work."

"Honestly darling, I think you should stay," Martha interrupts, standing, taking a step toward them, "He doesn't make strawberry, happy face pancakes for just anybody."

"You see?" Castle says looking down to Beckett, his best puppy dog eyes displayed. He lets his hand run gently down her arm, taking her hand. "Puh-leese." Castle pouts. "Breakfast. We get you checked out. And then work."

"I'm fine," she says softly, their eyes still locked in one another's, "Honest."

Castle leans down further, insisting, "Breakfast. We get you checked out. And then work."

He can feel her hand tighten around his, her fingers moving, "Alright," she says, "You win."

Castle releases her hand, clapping his own together, "Excellent," he says retuning to his pan, carefully removing another pancake, as Beckett moves toward his mother.

Turning, with his head in the fridge, Castle asks, "Do you like syrup? We have jam?"

Castle turns to see Beckett in the arms of his mother, held in a tender hug. After several quiet moments, they gently pull apart, Beckett's hands still holding his mother; Martha's hands gently cupping Beckett's face. Nothing is spoken between them, at least not aloud. Castle cannot stop the smile developing on his face. Graciously, Martha's hands gently pat the side of Beckett's face, releasing her; they turn smiling, taking their seats.

"And now," Martha says, pulling out a napkin from the place setting in front of her, "I'm ready for my hero's breakfast Mr. Castle."

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__

_Sorry it's been so long everyone... Should be more soon... I promise...  
_Thanks to everyone who has told me they love this story... it means a great deal!  
September 21st cannot come quick enough! :)


	8. Tethered and Truss

_Chapter 8: Tethered and Truss_

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A clock ticks on the wall to his left. A painting hangs near it. A scene he has viewed a hundred times before but never bothered to know its title. A plastic plant. Mute brown furniture. A hospital waiting room resembles every other waiting room he has ever seen.

Richard Castle sits hunched in a chair his finger intertwined, his body arched, his head raised, facing a hallway. Watching for a sign of her to ease his heavy conscience. A sign that everything is ok, that everything can return as it once was.

He leans back in contemplation. Taking another look around the room. What bothers him most about his drab surroundings is its smell. A common smell. The smell of death. The smell of sickness, of accidents, of sadness. The smell of pleading, of hope, of prayer. A smell that clings to the senses and claws at the reality of why you are here.

Finally he sees a glimpse of her and rises quickly from his seat. Her jacket draped over her arm, she slowly makes her way to him. Her head cocked. She smiles at him.

"You didn't have to wait for me. I'm a big girl," she says, finally reaching him. The smell of her invades his senses filling him with liquid happiness and he quickly forgets the stench of hospital wing, the loneliness, the dread.

"But I wanted to," he says smiling warmly, "Besides, you didn't think you'd get rid of me that easy did you."

"A part of me was hoping," she says reaching out to punch him lightly in the arm.

His arm outstretched, he directs her down the hall, "No way. I have to see what's what at the precinct." he pauses, his eyes traveling over her figure, "So? A clean bill of health."

"Yes. I told you, I'm fine."

As they walk slowly down the hall, she takes the opportunity to bump into him casually, sending him off balance and into a plant standing in the hallway. She allows herself the opportunity of a small chuckle before he quickly reaches her, holding out a hand from behind her to open the door to the outside world, away from the lingering smell that threatens to invade his senses once more.

***

The precinct is a buzz of electric machines working in time with the people milling around the office. Officers move in and out about their business in perfect timing with one another. Copiers, faxing machines and telephones work diligently in an endless array of clamour. Coffee percolates, chairs creak, doors slam as witnesses and criminals alike file in and out. It is because of this that Kate Beckett and Richard Castle almost enter unnoticed, edging up behind Detective Esposito who leans against the desk of Detective Ryan in deep contemplation. Ryan sits to his right, head in his hands, eyes focused on his computer.

"What's going on guys?" Beckett interrupts tossing her coat on her own desk.

Esposito looks up slowly, shaking his concentration, "Getting ready to talk to our witness." His mouth hung open slightly, he pauses picking up a file, "Beckett?"

"Yes," she replies turning her attention to him, crossing her arms.

"What are you doing here?" he asks looking to Ryan.

"Working. I do work here."

Esposito sighs softly and looks to Castle who has taken his usual seat at Beckett's desk. Castle, shrugging his shoulders, raises his hands to his defence. He leans back in his chair, crossing his legs, lifting his feet to rest on the corner of the desk.

"Never mind," Esposito says shaking his head.

"So what do we have so far?" Beckett asks reaching out a hand for the file.

"Nothing," Ryan says matter-of-factly, his voice muffled in his hands. He lowers his head and reaches out a shaky hand for his mug, taking a slow sip.

"What do you mean we have nothing?" Beckett questions, opening the file.

"What he means," Esposito continues, looking down to Detective Ryan, "Is that we've been here all night and haven't had a chance to talk to the guy yet."

Beckett's brow furrows as she looks down at her watch, "It's nearly noon," she says unimpressed, "How have you not talked to him yet?"

"He's got a social worker," Esposito says reaching for another piece of paper on his desk, "A Maggie something. She's holding him from us." He hands Beckett the piece of stationary.

"She can't do that," Beckett gasps, grabbing the paper, opening the file in her hands. "Harvey Lee Osmond," she pauses turning to Castle, her sight falling to his feet resting on her desk.

Castle raises his hands once more, removing his feet, placing them on the floor, "Harvey Lee Osmond? That's the name of our guy?"

Beckett nods, her attention falling back to the file in her hands, "29. Born and lives in East Rutherford. Son of a plumber. Took over his father's business at the age of 16. No misdemeanours. No criminal record whatsoever," she flips a few pages before continuing, "Is this really all we have?"

"You can add 'crazy' to that short list," Ryan remarks, finally picking his head out of his hands.

"The guy is a piece of work that's for sure," Esposito says crossing his arms. He looks back to Beckett who cocks her head, "What? It's the social worker. She won't budge."

"Oh she'll budge alright," Beckett says, taking initial steps away from them.

She turns the corner quickly, Castle taking long strides to catch up to her. She bumps into Captain Montgomery coming out of his office, who is quick to close his door behind him. Beckett makes out the figure of a woman seated inside before the door comes to a complete close.

"Is that her?" Beckett questions, pointing in the direction with the folder in her hand, "Is that our social worker?"

"Detective? What are you doing here?" Montgomery questions, crossing his arms.

"Sir?"

He sighs; his sights set on the scar at her neck, the bruising on her cheek. He lowers his head, "I want you to go home Detective."

She smiles shyly, placing a hand on her hip, "Sir, I'm fine," she reassures him, "Honest."

"I'm glad." He nods slowly, reaching out to grab the folder in her hand, "Now go home."

"What is she trying to pull?" Beckett asks, ignoring the urgency in his tone.

"Castle," Montgomery says, looking past her, "Take her home."

Castle takes a step forward before Beckett looks over her shoulder, daggers shot his way. He stops in his tracks and looks to Montgomery for direction.

"Detective, I will not have you in here, running off at the mouth jeopardizing this case."

"Case?" Beckett spits, turning back to him, "From what I hear you haven't even started."

"Go home. Get some rest." Montgomery looks past her. "Castle I'm giving you to the count of three to get her out of my sight." He turns on his heel without another word, turning the knob to his door and enters his office. The woman turns to face him, smiling as he enters.

Castle reaches out a hand and gently touches Beckett's arm. Raising a hand, she quickly brushes him off.

"Castle," her tone, one of frustration, "Don't touch me."

"I'm sorry," he says softly, as she turns abruptly from him, continuing down the hall.

***

The ride to her place spent mostly in silence, Richard Castle is relieved when they reach the door to her apartment. The keys jingling in her hands, Kate Beckett unlocks her door. She pauses in her actions and turns to him, raising a hand to his chest as he bumps into her.

"I think this is where we part ways Castle," she says looking up at him, her face inches from his.

"I was told to bring you home," he responds smiling, cocking his head, his breath warm on her skin.

"And you did just that," she inches her door slightly open, "but I am releasing you, Mr. Castle." Her voice unsteady, her tone hesitant. She pulls her fingertips away from his shirt.

He does not move; his eyes dark, intense.

She holds his stare for a few moments before opening her door further, asking him, "Would you care for a drink?"

He claps his hands together, a slight skip in his step as he motions forward into her apartment, "I thought you'd never ask."


	9. Home

_Chapter 9: Home_

* * *

Richard Castle walks into the apartment of Kate Beckett and looks around him.

A chair lies to his right, a table overturned. Shattered picture frames lie about his feet. A mirror which is hung over a mantle, shattered into pieces. Furniture is pushed in every direction in an attempt to block the exit. Evidence of a struggle that happened some 24 hours previous.

Castle looks in Beckett's direction, who in turn refuses to meet his gaze. She walks about the room as if home has always resembled this. She tosses her coat on a chair by the bar which partitions her kitchen, and turning the corner opens a cupboard in calm movements. She pulls two wine glasses from the opening.

"Red? White?" she asks looking up at him.

He stares back dumbfounded but finally answers, "Red. Please," his eyes falling back to the broken glass at his feet.

She is at his side quickly, handing him a glass, the red liquid dark and inviting.

"Thank you," he says reaching for the glass, returning, "Do you need help?" He reaches down, fingers carefully pulling a black picture frame from the floor. He turns it in his hands careful not to cut himself; a picture of her mother.

"I'll get to it," she retorts matter-of-factly making her way around broken glass to pick an overturned chair. She inches forward through her living room carefully, and then in a heavy slump falls to her couch raising her feet to rest on her coffee table. Two beats and she looks over her shoulder to Castle who stares sorrowfully at the photo in his hands. "Castle," she instructs, "Sit."

He looks up to her and turning places the frame upright on the shelf beside him, a long jagged piece of glass remains in the frame.

He is beside her now, looking down at her awaiting further permission. With tired eyes she looks up to him, eyebrows raised and lowers her sights to the spot beside her. He sits.

In silence they sit for a while before she finally begins.

"You know, we put locks on our doors, bars on our windows," raising the glass to her mouth she takes a sip, holding the liquid for a moment before swallowing. "We think we have the system figured out. We carry guns. We learn self defence. We're home early, in bed by eleven." She looks up to him, "We do everything in our power to ensure we are safe, we are secure. And then there are the few that get to us anyway; the few that never read the book on how to behave in society. They are the few that bypass the order of things."

He remains quiet but holds her gaze.

"I knew something was different. I knew it in my gut. He must have been waiting for me. He knew to wait until my gun was off. He knew where to hide, where to be so I wouldn't notice him." She takes another sip of her drink, "I must have been home for a little more than a half an hour. The psycho was watching. He was waiting for the right moment." She pauses, contemplating, "You know Castle, it was as if he knew my movements before I made them. Like it was already on the written page. Like I was meant to fail."

"You didn't fail," is his sorrow attempt at consoling.

"No. I did," she says looking down to her glass, "I've survived much worse, trust me. But in my own home. It was dark; he knew how to avoid every obstacle I threw at him. With all my training, I couldn't run 12 feet to save my own ass."

"You're being too hard on yourself," he says turning his body toward her, "This guy was special. A special type of psycho if you will. He was able to get past the security in my building."

She lowers her head further, fingering the rim of her glass, "He used my set of keys. We came in the back."

Castle lowers his head as well and takes a sip, the thick liquid filling his senses. Silently he wishes to feel numb.

"I just kept praying that no one would be home," Beckett says quietly, truthfully. "But thank god there was Martha."

Castle smiles for the first time in a while, breathing out quickly, "She really did enjoy the hero worship a little too much."

"Nah," Beckett returns, "She deserves it. Your mother was spectacular."

They nod in unison. Several moments pass between them, listening to the traffic outside her apartment; a dog barking, a car alarm sounding. Finally with one last swig of her glass, she raises the empty in Castle's direction.

"Refill?" he asks, reaching out for her glass.

"No, but I do think I will take you up on your earlier offer."

He leans forward placing his glass on her coffee table, "Where can I find a broom?"

***

A dark shadow waits in the doorway, heaving breathing attempting to subside. The figure of Beckett disrobing, unbuttoning her blouse, throwing it to the bed. Her back to the doorway she is dressed now in a black laced bra, tight fitted jeans. The shadow raises a hand to the door frame, wrapping gloved fingers around it. He sighs heavily.

She stops in her motions for a second, head spinning, and reaches hands behind her to her bra strap, fingers curling around eye and hook. He is on her in a flash of darkness. His body pressed against her, he throws her to the bed, fingers wrapping around her delicate neck as he squeezes. She is fighting for air.

***

Castle awakes, startled. Cold air coming in through the open window to his right, a fire escape. The room is dark, light barely streaming in from the streetlamps outside. A clock ticks on the mantle ahead of him; a black shape, he cannot tell the time. He rubs his eyes and his sights begin to accept the shapes around him.

Her feet in his lap, Castle looks to Beckett who holds a pillow, her breathing soft in the room's darkness. Carefully he picks her feet out of his lap, placing her long frame behind him. He draws nearer to the coffee table and takes a seat, leaning over Beckett to let the light flow upon her features.

She does not move, is not aware of his prying eyes. Carefully, so as not to disturb her, he reaches over her, pulling a strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. He leans back to view the peaceful Kate Beckett. A sight so rarely witnessed; no brow to furrow, no eyes to roll, no smart ass comments to throw his way. He smiles.

After several moments of watching her sleep, her chest rising and falling with each breath, he makes the executive decision to move her. Placing one hand behind her back and another behind her knees, he lifts her carefully into his arms; her long frame stabilized in his grasp. Her head rolls to rest on his shoulder and he moves carefully around each shadowy obstacle to her bedroom and places her gently on her bed.

As he leans over her to grab a blanket, she reaches up suddenly to curl her fingers in the collar of his shirt. Her breathing erratic, choppy, she pulls him gently nearer to her, his face inches from hers. He can feel her breath on his face; feel the heat rising from his toes. He licks his lips without thinking as she pulls his face closer, their lips locking in union.

They hold their lips together without moving, Castle afraid he may lose his balance and topple her. As she carefully slides her tongue into the corner of his mouth, he releases his hold on her blanket, drawing his hands to her sides in order to support his weight over her body; gravity willing for collision.

He returns her kiss deeply, dragging his tongue into the far reaches of her mouth, their breathing increasing with each movement. Sighs and moans are shared between them without intention or delay. He can feel her audible, from the back of her throat, and she is pulling more securely now, drawing him nearer, yearning for his weight on her body. He obliges, resting a knee on either side of her long frame, a hand released from his collar she runs her fingers through his hair. With the flick of his tongue against hers, her back arches, needing; a victim of her own desire.

He releases them from their bond. As he pulls away, she tightens her grasp pulling on him again, her hands at the side of his head, a finger wrapped around each ear. Her eyes searching his; wild and wanting.

He draws a finger to her lips and pushes her gently to rest her head back on her pillow. As her grasp loosens, he draws back running his hands slowly down the sides of her body. He tugs gently at the base of her shirt and raises it slowly exposing her abdomen. Her stomach is tight, rising steadily with each heavy breath she takes.

He draws his lips to her body running his tongue along her sides, placing gentle kisses as he explores. Her breathing increases as he nears her waistline, running from her hip bones to the button on her pants. She brings her hands to play with his hair, digging her nails lightly into his scalp.

"Castle," she mutters almost inaudibly.

He continues to place kisses along her stomach around her belly button, running back down to her pant line; his hands trailing her sides slowly. He reaches up, taking the button in his fingers, undoing her pants.

"Castle," she says with force now, her hands carefully pulling at his hair.

He looks up slowly to see her looking down at him, their breathing the only sound in the room. She brings her hands to her hair now, running her fingers through it, covering her face slightly.

"It's too much," she continues, her words muffled, "I'm so sorry."

He nods his head, sighing softly, and places one final kiss to her abdomen. Lifting his body away from her lower half, he returns to rest his body along the length of her own.

"No, I'm sorry," he mutters, bringing a hand up to pull her hands from her face, "I know. It's too soon."

"It's more than that, Castle," she moves her head to face him, "I'm not very good with all this hero riding in on his white horse mumbo jumbo. I don't do very well when taken care of."

"That's apparent."

"I'm independent. I can't help it. And this," she reaches out to place a hand on his chest, "This is just too much to handle all in one shot. I need to stay the Detective. You need to stay the writer. It needs to be the constant in my life right now; especially when everything else is out of sync." She is careful to look him in the eyes, the dim light in the room shining in them, "I can't wrap my head around anymore than that right now."

"I understand," he says, "You're right."

"I really am sorry," she says taking her hand from his chest.

"Don't worry about it," he smiles, "I can be very patient."

She lifts her body from the bed, draping her legs over the side to rest her feet on the floor.

"Would you like me to leave?" he asks, lifting on one elbow.

She sighs again, shaking her head, "Would it be entirely selfish of me if I said 'no'?"

"No."

"Good," she says, lifting from the bed, motioning toward her bathroom, "Because I owe you breakfast in the morning."

* * *

_Hopefully more twists and turns to come soon... thank you for your dedication and reviews, especially if you have followed me this far..._

_Your words really do mean a lot to me... and I find they make me update quicker... I must do this to please you... :)_


	10. Covenant

_Chapter 10: Covenant_

* * *

Richard Castle wakes early and rolls over to find her gone. He sighs lying on his back, eyes examining the ceiling. He is unsure what he has expected but he feels jaded, lonely. A hand reaches down to feel the sheets where she has slept. Still warm; she has left him only moments before.

Bringing his hands to his face, he rubs his eyes, shakes his head, willing his focus to take effect. He reaches down to grab his pants, his shirt where he has left it, and one leg at a time, dresses himself. With one arm entering his shirt, he takes initial steps across her floor to her bedroom door which remains ajar.

Her back to him, Kate Beckett stands in her kitchen. Grabbing a mug from the cabinet above her she places it down onto the counter and grabs her coffee pot.

"I hope there's enough for two," he says treading heavily across her living room to stand with her.

"As a matter of fact there is," she says looking over her shoulder and with unsteady hand reaches into her cupboard again, pulling another mug.

She pours the dark liquid slowly and brings her other hand to rest at her wrist, steadying her hand as she pours. The clock ticks on her mantle; the only sound that can be heard. She turns to him, offering, refusing to meet his stare, and carefully, so as not to touch his hand, the mug is exchanged between them. She sighs slightly and leans against her counter. Her gaze in front, she brings the hot liquid to her lips.

Castle lowers his eyes and reaches for the cream she has left out. "Kate," he begins.

She turns her head in his direction, staring at a tile on her floor. "Rick," she sighs heavily, "Let's not do this. Not now. I think what was said last night is enough. Is it not?"

Castle smiles at her and reaches out with a single finger to lightly touch her arm, finally drawing her eyes to his.

"I was just going to ask if you had any sugar."

Beckett smiles uncontrollably and raises a hand to shield her face. "Oh God," escapes her lips as she turns to reach into an adjoining cupboard pulling out a bowl of sugar.

The heavy air now lifted in the room, Beckett takes the opportunity to lean into Castle her side meeting his. With assured hand, Castle reaches an arm around her drawing her closer, and carefully presses his lips to her temple.

"Don't worry," he says, resting his head on hers, "What was said was enough." Carefully he pulls away to whisper in her ear, "For now."

He looks down to see her staring into her mug, a grin stretched across her face. "For now," she says, nodding slightly.

***

They enter the 12th precinct together drawing attention from every direction; curiosity lining every face they meet. Kate Beckett treads heavily to her desk and flops into her chair, her coat tossed in front of her. She sits back as Castle takes his usual seat at her side. Hands clasped together, she looks up to see wandering eyes meeting hers.

"What?!" she declares, her voice travelling into all corners of the room.

Slowly each one of her spectators returns to continue their own work. Beckett looks to Castle who sits cross legged, his elbows resting on the arms of his chair, fingertips touching. He smiles and shrugs his shoulders.

Beckett smiles at him before turning to meet the gaze of Captain Montgomery as he walks steadily down the hall. He makes no motion toward her, no assurance in his stare before he leaves her sight and enters his office.

"She returns!" comes the exasperated declaration of Detective Kevin Ryan as he draws near to Beckett's desk, Castle's own "Storm Rising" in hand. Castle nods to Ryan giving him thumbs up. Ryan, a smile like a Cheshire cat, points at the book mouthing the words, "It's good". Each of them unaware of Detective Beckett who rolls her eyes. Detective Javier Esposito is quick to follow, file folder in hand.

"Fill me in guys," Beckett says leaning forward, hand open ready to receive the file. "What did I miss?"

Esposito hands the folder to her, leaning against her desk, "We're actually on our way in to talk to him."

"Are you serious?" Beckett gasps, "What the hell was with the hold up?"

Esposito looks to Castle and then back to Beckett, "You didn't hear?"

"No," Castle and Beckett gasp in unison.

"The perp is pressing charges against Castle. Apparently you did a number on his face."

"You have got to be shitting me!" Beckett rises from her chair, opening the folder with force. "Just wait until I get my hands on this psycho."

"It was his social worker, this Maggie Anderson who was keeping him from us. Says he was at the hospital all night on some pretty heavy medication for pain."

"This is bullshit." Beckett says again with frustration, looking to Castle who now rises from his chair to stand by her side. He lifts a hand to her backside, gently motions on her lower back.

"Maggie Anderson?" Castle says lifting his other hand to his face.

"Do you know her?" Beckett asks looking up to him.

"I'm not sure. Maybe."

Beckett pauses for a second, contemplating the relationship for a moment before continuing. "This woman has to be off her rocker if she thinks she can do this." Beckett throws the folder on the desk and places her hands on her hips. "Where is he?" she asks Esposito.

"Interview Room 3," and as she begins to walk from the group, Esposito continues, "There is no way Montgomery is going to let you in there."

Looking over her shoulder, she turns a corner, "Watch me."

With arm outstretched for the handle of the door to Interview Room 3, Beckett is interupted by footsteps behind her.

"Detective?" Montgomery questions as Beckett turns to face him.

"Sir?"

"What do you think you are doing?" he asks arms folded in front of him.

"My job." Beckett says matter-of-factly, replacing her hand on her hip.

Montgomery sighs. "If you are going to be any part of this case, you will observe the investigation from the outside." He motions toward an adjoining door. "I will not run the risk of having this investigation thrown out from the result of sloppy detective work." Daggers are shot his way as he continues, "Especially when this sicko has hurt one of my own."

At his words, Beckett's face relaxes and with shaking hand on shaking hip, she nods slowly.

"No one hurts one of my own and walks," he lowers his voice, "Do I make myself clear?"

Beckett nods sullenly, "Clearly."

With arm outstretched in the direction of the observation room, "Detective."

"Captain," she says as she leaves him, nodding to Castle, who has just entered the hallway, to follow her inside.

***

Hands cuffed together, Harvey Lee Osmond stares blankly in front of him through the mirror in the room, almost sensing directly where Castle is standing. To his right sits a woman with long, light brown hair and dark, thick rimmed glasses. To his left sits a man in a dark grey suit. His hair salt and pepper, his complexion dark, eyes small behind his moon shaped glasses. Castle and Beckett wait patiently inside the observation room, not long before Detective Esposito and a very proud, very smug Detective Ryan enter taking seats in front of one very collected, very calm, Harvey Lee Osmond.

Ryan and Esposito adjust in their seats. Ryan shuffles papers in front of him, Esposito leans back, observing Ryan from the corner of his eye. When Ryan continues with his adjusting and shuffling for several more moments, Esposito leans forward clearing his throat with a strong, "Ahem."

Ryan looks up slowly to see he is the attention of everyone in the room and finally, with one final motion, shifts a piece of paper at the edge of the desk in front of him, aligning it with the others. Sighing he brings his hands together, folding his fingers in one another, elbows resting on the table.

"So let's deal," begins the lawyer, his eyes moving from Ryan to Esposito.

"Mr. Denton," Esposito scoffs, "You have to be kidding me. There is no deal."

Osmond takes a deep breath, his focus now showing signs of agitation, "I want a deal," and looking to the woman sitting at his side, "Maggie, you promised we'd get a deal."

"Harvey, we need to use our manners right now," says the woman, her voice cool, collected, "The detectives and Bob are talking."

In the observation room, Castle leans to Beckett, quietly saying, "God I know her from somewhere".

Osmond leans back in his chair, unimpressed with the talk he has just received, "But you promised," he says quietly, almost muttering to himself.

"Your client is currently being held on charges of assault with a deadly weapon, kidnapping of an officer of the law, home invasion... to name a few" Esposito says looking up from his paper. "I have no idea where you see room to make a deal in there."

"My client says he has valuable information on another case you are currently working on."

"What case would that be?" Ryan asks.

"One to do with a kidnapping and homicide of a little girl," says Denton, "We have reason to believe Harvey here can lead you to her assailant."

"Her hair was so pretty," Osmond remarks, "So red."

The room falls silent for a moment, all turning to watch the hands of Harvey Osmond as they ring together in front of him. His eyes intent on his motions.

"If you are referring to Jessica Andrews, Harvey," Ryan says, "You've already been charged with her murder."

Osmond laughs to himself, deep and sinister, and runs a sweaty hand slowly through his hair. "No. Not Jessica."

Unimpressed with this charade, Esposito slams a hand on the table in front of Osmond, getting his attention, "Then who are you talking about?"

Osmond grins, his features dangerous, menacing, "You really have no idea do you."

"No more games Harvey," Ms. Anderson puts in, "The nice Detective asked you a question."

"Shut up, _Maggie_!" Osmond shrieks, looking at her out of the corner of his wild eyes, "Liars don't speak to me."

"Harvey!" Esposito yells, his hand banging on the desk once more, "Just answer the question. Which little girl are you talking about?"

Osmond says nothing but looks up into the reflective glass in the room, once again picking out Castle from behind his reflection. "You don't know do you. Haven't been home yet? You really need to brush up on your parenting skills."

The observers in the room turn to follow Osmond's gaze. Beckett too, turns to Castle who stands beside her, fists clenched.

"That son of a bitch!" Castle mutters and before Beckett has time to stop him, is out the door entering Interview Room 3, violently picking Harvey Lee Osmond from this chair. Castle throws him against the wall, and with pulled fist, punches Osmond square in the face.

"What the hell have you done with her?!" Castle shouts as Esposito and Ryan throw themselves at Castle pulling him from Osmond.

"Castle!" Beckett yells as the two detectives pull him across the room.

Osmond, who has now fallen to the floor, brings his cuffed hands to his face, wiping the blood that is trailing down from his nose.

"You broke my nose again," Osmond says, looking up slowly at Castle, "You continue to surprise me, Richard."

Castle shakes off the arms of Detectives Ryan and Esposito and adjusts his jacket, flattening his collar.

Osmond smiles at him, "If you want to see your little girl again Richard, I suggest you have your dogs offer me that deal."

* * *

_Do I have any of you guys squirming yet? Do I?_

_Thanks again for all of the reviews for BOUND. I really do love them.  
Sorry for the long wait for the update, this puppy took longer than expected. More to come...._


	11. Limbo

_Chapter 11: Limbo_

* * *

Richard Castle is pulled from Interview Room 3 with significant force. His eyes focused on his intended, he lunges forward as Detectives Esposito and Ryan release their grip. Equal to his force, Detective Kate Beckett pushes firmly against his chest, her eyes wild, fiery. The door closes behind her.

"Castle, no!" she commands pushing against him with the palm of her hand. Esposito and Ryan take a step toward Castle, hands out to direct him away from the room.

"He took her Kate," Castle says choking, taking a step back, "He took my little girl." Castle's hands come instantly to his hair. He pulls in frustration.

Beckett offers reassurance, carefully reaching out to grab his forearms, pulling on him slightly. She looks toward Esposito and Ryan offering an awkward smile as they step back. Captain Montgomery enters the corridor behind them. Esposito and Ryan turn to him instantly. Their voices are low, inaudible.

"Castle," her voice quiet, soothing, "Listen to me. This guy is a piece of work. He's toying with you. He knew exactly where you were going to be. He's studied you." He hand runs over his forearms. "He knows how to get under your skin. He wants to see you sweat."

He looks up slowly, tear filled eyes meeting hers. She licks her lips, the corner of her mouth curling.

"What I'm trying to say is that I need you to focus," she adds carefully, "Where is your phone?"

With a sudden hope flushing his face, Castle nods.

"You're right," he says, nodding frantically, "You're absolutely right."

Hands fumbling in his coat pocket he pulls his phone turning it in his hand. Face falling, he frowns, "It's dead. My phone's dead. Maybe she was calling. Maybe she was asking for help." He takes several gasps before looking at her.

"Castle," Beckett calls out forcefully, grabbing onto his elbows again, "Focus."

She reaches into her coat pocket pulling her own cell phone, handing it to Castle. He dials the familiar number. He is gasping for breath.

A voice picks up the line, "The number you have dialled is unavailable. Please hang up and try again later."

"Her phone's off," Castle declares looking to Beckett.

She nods casually, "Ok," her tone, one of familiar Detective, "It's ok. Call your mother. Maybe Alexis is home."

It is as if she can hear her own heart pounding in her head as she waits patiently in front of him, his breathing erratic and heavy. Finally a voice is heard on the other line.

"Hello?" comes an unfamiliar, shaky voiced Martha Rogers.

"Mother. Is Alexis home?"

"Richard? I've been trying to reach you for hours. Where the hell have you been? I expected you to be home. I wait up. You don't show."

"Mother," Castle breaths heavily, his voice rising, "Is Alexis with you?"

Beckett reaches forward, carefully taking Castle's shaking hand in hers and holds it against her chest lightly caressing.

"Honestly Richard, I don't know where you get off making me worry so. I'm your mother. I have a right to know if you're going to be out wondering, chasing down some crazy dream. I don't know why Beckett bothers to put up with you, I just-"

"Mother!" Castle shouts as Beckett tightens her grip on Castle, pulling herself closer, "Is Alexis home?"

"No Richard," a sigh comes across on the other line, "Alexis is not home."

"Did she call?"

"No," Martha answers, pausing, "Richard? Is something wrong?"

Voice shaking, Castle answers, "If she calls, you call me. You call Detective Beckett."

"Richard what's going-"

Castle ends the call, returning the phone. "I should have been home. I should have answered my phone. She should have been home this morning." He pauses, his face flushed, "I think I'm going to be sick," Castle brings his hands back to his hair, hunching his back. Beckett is on him immediately, taking him by the arm.

"Castle. Come. Sit. Take deep breaths." She guides him to the nearest chair, helping him place his head between his knees.

The figure of a woman exits the Interview room. Maggie Anderson pops her head around the corner motioning quietly in Beckett's direction. Beckett looks up slowly.

"Do you want me to talk to him?" Anderson whispers, "I have a background in psychology."

Beckett rises, treading across the floor to meet her.

"He just needs a minute to collect himself." She takes a second to look Anderson over, "And you are?"

"Dr. Maggie Anderson," offering her hand, "I'm actually an old friend of Richard's."

"Really? Old friend?" Beckett says looking at Anderson's outstretched hand, and crosses her arms, tilting her head back, "Funny you should mention; _Richard_ can't seem to place you exactly."

Anderson tilts her head back, and crosses her arms to mimic Beckett, "College. I know Richard from college."

"Is that so?" Beckett huffs.

"It is," Anderson remarks defensively, "If you have any questions about my credentials Detective, I suggest-"

"Steadman's year-end party," Castle interrupts, his head still held between his knees. Beckett and Anderson turn to look at him.

"That's right Richard," Anderson says flocking to his side, a gently hand held out to his arm, "Steadman's year-end," Anderson continues, a look of scorn toward Beckett. "Oh Richard, it really has been too long."

Anderson reaches out carefully placing a single finger to Castle's chin raising his head to look him in the eyes. "Oh Richard," a flurry of long brown hair engulfs Castle's frame, "I feel just terrible."

Beckett scoffs, and turns abruptly to see Montgomery motioning for her to join them. She abides leaving the scene behind.

"Beckett? What do we have so far?" Montgomery questions with authority.

"Alexis isn't answering her phone. We've called his mother. She's not at home either." Beckett pauses, "Castle mentioned that she was at a sleepover. She should have been home this morning."

Montgomery is quick to hand out his orders. "Beckett you go to Castle. Get as much out of him as possible. We need to know her exact movements. Where and when. What ifs and maybes. Be tough. Don't let him crack."

Beckett nods, "Of course. Yes sir."

"Ryan. Put together a task force. Canvas all areas between the sleepover to Castle's house. I'm talking buildings, alleys, subway stations, restaurants, dump bins. Leave no stone unturned."

Ryan looks up from a pad of paper, clicking his pen, "Yes sir."

"Esposito," he says pausing, "You and me are on psycho duty," and looking to Beckett, "This guy will break if I have to crack him in the nose myself." Montgomery nods slowly looking over his crew. "All right people. Let's bring this little girl home."

Each break in their own direction before Montgomery turns around, calling out, "Oh and Beckett!"

Beckett turns in her stride to face him just before turning the corner, "Yes sir?"

"You might want to call in a favour from the FBI," he pauses placing a hand on the door of Interview Room 3. "I wouldn't on normal circumstances suggest this, but getting Castle's daughter home safe is our number one concern."

"Yes sir." Beckett says nodding, and turns back to the scene she had left only moments before; Castle and Anderson still held in a tight embrace.

"Alright doc," Beckett says, tapping her on the shoulder, "Just a heads up but my guys are in there as we speak probably picking apart that psycho brain of yours."

"You have no right!" Anderson exclaims rising to her feet, treading heavily toward the doorway, "Under no circumstances do you talk to him without my authority."

"Who is it that you think you are exactly?" Beckett asks coldly.

"I'm a social worker. I'm only doing my job, detective." She takes a step toward Beckett, pulling back her hair from her face with one hand, "I'm also probably the only friend in the world he has right now."

"Some friend!" Beckett exclaims, her voice cracking, "How can you defend him? After all he's done?" She points to Castle, eyes remaining focused on Anderson.

"It might surprise you," Anderson says crossing her arms, head tilt back once more, "But Harvey Lee Osmond is a regular person like you or I. He's just been lead astray."

Beckett chuckles, her tone one of mockery, "And what? You're some sort of shepherd. Come to lead him back to his flock. Read him the _Good News_."

"Yes," Anderson confides, "If that's how you want to put it. Underneath his thick exterior, Harvey really is a gentle soul."

"Stop feeding me your bullshit," Beckett says, stepping forward, "I've spent many an hour with this 'gentle soul' of yours, and believe me gentle is not the word I would use to describe him." She takes the opportunity to point out the scar on her face, pulling aside her collar, revealing the end result.

"Psycho is psycho," Beckett glares, "I don't care how you want to butter it up." Beckett takes the opportunity to turn from her, looking back over her shoulder to Castle who stares in trance at a spot on the floor, "Well _Maggie_, I'd love to stay and chat but I have work to do. And just so that way we're clear," she continues, lowering her voice, "If he has so much as harmed one little hair on her head, I will gut him myself and show you just what a 'gentle soul' really looks like."

Without another word, Anderson turns on a dime exiting out of the room, leaving Beckett to collect her breath.

* * *

_Thanks again for the dedication... the favourites... the author alerts... the beautiful reviews...  
they make me smile and pick up the laptop to furiously tap at my keys into the wee hours of the morning...escaping to CASTLE heaven...  
I hope everyone is spreading the CASTLE love around getting people addicted to this show... so far I'm sitting pretty at 12 people! :)  
We need this show to go on as long as humanly possible. It makes me smile to see new people on this site and the story board is up to 8 pages of entries._

So thanks for stopping by to read this... especially if you made it to Chapter 11... I hope to not disappoint.  
Peace out my Castle-ites... and better yet my CASKETT friends. ;) I love you all...

Next Chapter shouldn't be too long away.


	12. The Brownstone

_Chapter 12: The Brownstone_

* * *

"You shouldn't be so hard on her," he says getting up from his seat to stand behind her. His hands reach out to gently cup her elbows. "She was only trying to help."

'"Are you serious?" she asks, turning to face him, her face flustered, her eyes wild from the confrontation. "You do realize she's sticking up for this psycho. Do you even-" she stops herself, thinking twice before continuing. She searches for new words, refraining from the obvious but finds nothing and only shakes her head, looking down at his hands which have now found her own.

"I just want my little girl back," he says earnestly, "That's all."

She smiles if only to force the tears from returning. Scrunching her face, she nods, "You're right," she takes her hands from his, "We had better be going." In an instant her demeanour changes, her shoulders upright, a sense of urgency returning to her. She has morphed from friend to detective in an instant. "Where was this sleep over held?"

"Her friends house," Castle closes his eyes, begging himself for the memory a father who pays attention, "Paige," his eyes opening, senses focused, "She went to Paige's house."

"Let's go."

***

The screeching of the siren above them, the roar of the V8 engine in front of them, and Beckett is weaving her way through traffic. Avoiding trashcans, pedestrians, cyclists and dog walkers, she throws the vehicle into another gear. The traffic parts for them as if by a magical force, clearing a path through town. It is only on two occasions that Beckett does yield, flicking her lights, the change of the siren urging the congestion to move for them.

"Get the hell out of the way," she curses through an opened window to the crowd developing to her right. Pedestrians on the sidewalk halt in their comings and goings as Beckett finally pulls up, stopping abruptly at the foot of a Brownstone in the Upper West Side.

The two exit the vehicle in swift motions, Beckett barely pulling the keys from the ignition. Taking steps two by two they edge toward the large, heavy, brown wooden door and notice it ajar. If it wasn't for their urgency, a lady with a shopping cart they had to avoid at the foot of the stairs, they would have seen the large oversized black sedan, the two identical Black SUV's parked on either side of it; vehicles that screamed FBI.

***

Castle is the first to reach the door and opens the double doors with ease. There is a thud as the door opens to its fullest, and a voice which utters, "Ouch." Castle turns to see a man in a dark navy jacket emerge from behind the door, his hand to his forehead rubbing it vigorously. Castle pushes on down a hall as if phased by nothing.

Beckett turns to the man, "Sorry," she says in Castle's stead, looking down to see latex gloves on the man's hands, a small brush in his grasp. A fingerprinting kit is at his feet. She looks to the man's shoulder reading, the lettering clear in bright yellow letters. FBI.

She looks onward down the hall to see Castle running his eyes over the numbers on the doors, looking frantically for apartment number nine.

"Beckett," a voice calls out from the staircase in front of her.

She takes quick strides toward the voice, looking up to see Will Sorenson, standing at the top of the stairs.

"Will?" she questions beginning to ascend the staircase. Castle is standing beside her in seconds, ascending in stride with her. "What are you doing here?"

Will looks now to Beckett whose sights have also followed Castle in his motions. Will turns slowly to look at Castle who is already pushing past him edging closer to the open doorway in the hall. A team of agents mill around in and out of the apartment door.

"I got word of an abduction case," he says carefully, "When I heard it was Alexis Castle I had to come down and bring the team."

She smiles softy, cautiously, "Thanks for coming," she pauses taking a step down the hall, "Did you get word from Montgomery?"

Will doesn't answer at first and Beckett can tell he is thinking, carefully planning his next words as they meet Castle at the doorstep, who is being held back by an agent, "Yes. I did."

She looks at him questionably but he turns into the room, brushing off the agent allowing Castle and Beckett to follow him into the apartment.

The room is furnished lavishly, the floors of rich mahogany, the windows open. Fresh air, and sunlight fill the room, juxtaposing against the atmosphere.

Beckett enters unsure of where to fit and turns to Sorenson asking, "What do we have so far?"

"Single mother Anne, daughter Paige. Both very distraught. We're trying to talk to the young girl now. She hasn't told us much yet."

Beckett nods in agreement, turning to Castle who stands with his hands by his side, scanning the room back and forth, his head on a swivel. A look of confusion and urgency lines his face.

"Do you mind if I try talking to her?" Beckett asks Sorenson who also is watching Castle's motions.

"Of course not," his arm outstretched, "This way."

Will places his other hand to her back motioning her forward but when she stops short for Castle lacing her fingers around his, Will removes his hand and takes a step forward away from them.

"Hey," she says awakening Castle from his trance, "I'm going to go talk to Paige. Do you want to sit down?"

He shakes his head moving his fingers with hers, "No, I'll come with you."

She waits for a second, looking to him, watching the colour return to his face, his eyes focused. Unable to argue her case, she nods and steps away from him to follow Will across the floor to a hallway where they pass several agents exiting from a room at its end.

Held in her mother's arms, Paige rests her head on her chest, eyes closed, her face lined with tears. She holds onto a sweater on her lap. Beckett turns to Castle reading him, noticing no change in his demeanour; he remains focused on the task at hand.

"Paige," Sorenson says softly, carefully touching the young girl's arm, "We have some people here who would like to ask you some questions. This is Kate and..." Will trails off as Paige lifts her head to look past Beckett to Castle.

"Oh Mr. Castle," she says choking, tears streaming down her face. She leaves her mother's side to trudge heavily across the floor into the arms of Castle who stands reluctantly for a second while the young girl wraps her arms around his midriff. "It's all my fault," she exclaims, burying her head into the flap of his jacket. It is moments before Castle sighs shaking slightly, bringing his arms around to complete the embrace.

Beckett is on them in seconds, placing a hand to Paige's head, drawing the young girl from the embrace, "Paige, it's not your fault and no one is blaming you here."

Paige pulls her face away from Castle, releasing her arms, bringing her hands to her face. "I told her she should wait for a ride," she says wiping away tears, "I told her she should wait for someone to take her home. I shouldn't have let her leave."

Paige walks across the room to sit with her mother. Her mother places a hand on her back; a soothing touch to calm the girls nerves.

"Paige," Beckett says softly, pulling a chair from the desk to her right to sit in front of the distraught girl, "We need you to tell us anything you can remember that might help us find Alexis. Anything that you can remember, no matter how small the detail may be, is really going to help us find Alexis and bring her home." She pauses, waiting for Paige to lift her eyes, "You two are close friends right?"

Paige nods in agreement. Stifling a sniffle.

"When did Alexis leave here?" Beckett asks, drawing a small notepad from her coat pocket.

"Yesterday afternoon. I think it was 3:30."

Beckett makes a notation and continues, "Did Alexis mention which way she was going home?"

Her face scrunches, "She took the subway. She said she wanted to get home early to finish a book report."

"And where is the nearest station? Which platform would she use?"

"There's one really close. Only about a block from here."

Beckett smiles, maintaining a calm assertive manner, "Do you remember what she was wearing when she left your house?"

"A white shirt and plaid skirt."

"Did she mention anything else of where she might be going? Is there somewhere where she might have stopped on the way home?"

Paige looks to the other men in the room, and looks back to Beckett lowering her voice, "She said she needed tampons."

Beckett smiles, "That's really good Paige. That's extremely helpful." Beckett reaches out to gently squeeze Paige's hand. "Did Alexis have a cell phone with her? Did she have a bag? How about a sweater?"

"She had her cell. She had a bag. No sweater."

"Excellent," Beckett says, "What kind of bag would she have? Can you describe it for us?"

Paige opens her eyes wide, "She has a Louis Vitton bag," she says excitedly, "It's white with brown trim. The symbols are pink and gold." she pauses, "She got it last year. Loves it."

"Her birthday present," Castle says flatly.

Beckett turns to look at Castle solemnly, finally turning her attention back to Paige. She smiles again, warmly. Beckett begins to see signs of frustration on the girl's face, her eyes darting to each of them in the room, and sits back for a second. "You're doing great. Is there anything else you can think of?"

Paige shakes her head, lowering it, she turns her focus to her hands, entwining her fingers in her lap.

Beckett leans forward to touch Paige's arm, "What you just gave us is going to be really helpful."

Looking up quickly, the young girl looks to Beckett, "Are you going to find her?"

Beckett nods leaning into her, and lowering her voice vows, "I promise I will do everything in my power to get her home safely. You can count on it."

***

Once outside the girls room, upon entering the family's living room, Sorenson begins shouting orders to the Agents in the room.

He turns to Beckett. "We're going to canvas the areas near the Subway station entrances. There has to be camera footage that we can use."

Beckett nods in agreement, "Right."

"I'm also going to send a team over to Castle's place," Sorenson adds, looking to Castle, who is staring off out a window, "Richard?" he says lifting a hand, getting Castle's attention, "Do you want a ride to your place?"

"Martha," Beckett adds, "She's probably worried with fright."

Castle nods his head and walks toward the door, exciting the apartment.

Beckett begins the follow but Sorenson reaches out for her arm drawing her back.

"Kate," Sorenson says lowering his voice, "He shouldn't be here and you know it."

She sighs heavily, "What am I supposed to do, Will? You know damn well if this was about you you'd want to be here." She releases her arm from his grasp, "He's better off with me for the time being."

"I'm just saying."

"And I don't care," she says turning away from him and follows Castle out of the apartment.

***

Once at street level, Beckett's eye catches something at an intersection. She takes a few steps toward her intended to get a better view. A corner store is before them, the "OPEN" sign blinking in the window with neon light.

"What is it?" Castle questions, his hand on the door of the dark sedan.

She turns back to him, "Just a gut feeling."

He edges up next to her, "What about?"

Beckett continues, her eyes held with his, "Paige said that Alexis needed tampons."

He looks to her confused, "So you're thinking she went there?" He sighs, "There about a hundred of the same stores from here to our place. What makes you think she went there?"

"Because I know what its like," she says turning, taking steps toward the store, "And she's not going to want to forget."

***

They enter the corner store together, Beckett flashing her badge to the middle aged man behind the counter in blue smock.

"Detective Beckett, NYPD," she says putting her badge away after the clerk has taken a good look, "I have a few questions."

The man looks worried but says, "Sure. Go ahead."

She reaches into her pocket pulling out a picture that Sorenson has given her; a copy of Alexis' high school picture, "We're wondering if you remember seeing this girl in here. She would have been in here yesterday, in the late afternoon."

The man looks over the picture, bringing his finger up to scratch his chin. Sadly he shakes his head, handing her the picture. "I'm afraid not. Never seen her," he pauses leaning forward on the counter, "But I wasn't here yesterday afternoon. Worked the morning and was out of here by noon."

Beckett nods, placing the picture back into her pocket, "Can I get the name of who would have been on the clock yesterday? Do you have a list?"

A bell chimes above the door as a man in a ball cap with heavy beard and long hair enters the store, drawing Castle's attention away from Beckett's questioning.

The man nods, "Sure. I can get you that."

Beckett looks up to a camera in the corner behind the store clerk and follows her line of sight down to a monitor where she can clearly see herself on surveillance, and to Castle who takes a step away from her toward the door.

"Do you have tapes for your surveillance?"

The clerk nods, "Yes. DVD actually."

Beckett loops a thumb into her pocket, "I'll need copies of those as well."

The clerk nods again, taking a step away from her, disappearing into the room behind him.

"Beckett," comes the voice of Castle who is standing outside the door now.

Beckett follows obediently, following his line of sight to a woman walking with a limp and slight hunch. She is dressed in grey, dirty clothes. Her hair a mess, a cigarette hanging from her mouth. She pushes a small shopping cart in front of them filled with black plastic bags and pop cans for recycling which scatter about the cart. But their sights are not focused on the woman's appearance, nor on the peculiar treasure she holds in her cart. What is most peculiar about this scene is the white Louis Vitton bag with brown trim and symbols of pink and gold hanging from her shoulder.

* * *

_Really sorry this took so long... For some reason it took a really long time for me to be able to get it out of my head and into the typed word...  
I appreciate your enthusiasm and your dedication to reading BOUND. I appreciate all my reviews. They make me feel loved, so please keep 'em coming._

_All the best... moi..._


	13. Of Hunches and Noseplugs

_Chapter 13: Of Hunches and Noseplugs_

* * *

Detective Kate Beckett and Richard Castle hurry to catch up to the woman ahead of them. She seems frail, yet hardened from the years of smoking and living on the street. Her posture is hunched, her limp more noticeable as they approach. The clicking of the wheel on her cart is the only noise on the street above the sound of their feet hitting the sidewalk.

"Excuse me", Beckett calls out to her once in shouting distance.

The woman looks back to see them running at her and immediately turns quickening her steps. The cans in her cart making a clanking noise.

"Wait," Beckett calls out again, quickening her pace, "Police." Beckett is able to reach out gently taking the woman's arm, slowing her. She takes a deep breath.

"No shit, Sherlock," the woman utters turning to face Beckett, her voice raspy and raw, "Why do you think I was running?"

"You have a reason to be running from the cops ma'am?"

"I ain't your ma'am, lady." The woman looks at Castle pointing in Beckett's direction with her thumb, and coughs loudly clearing her throat, "Who does she think she is?"

Beckett reaches into her pocket pulling out her badge and flashes it, the woman in turn rolling her eyes. Castle obliges, "Apparently she thinks she's with the NYPD. This is Detective Beckett."

"Christ," the woman sighs heavily, "What the hell is it now? My living quarters not up to _code_?"

"Living quarters?"

"Yeah," the woman continues, "Did I not curtsy to the passersby, _ma'am_?"

Beckett sighs putting her badge away. "We're not interested in your 'living quarters'. We just want to ask you a few questions regarding the bag you have?"

The woman is quick to clutch it to her body, "This? This is mine."

"Where did you find the bag?" Beckett asks impatiently.

"I didn't find it," the woman scoffs, "I told you its mine. You know, this is a case of ageism at its finest. That's what this is." She clutches the purse harder, taking a step toward Beckett, "I'm so sick of you cops and-"

"Then can you explain why there is a key-chain on the inside that says, 'Daddy's Little Girl'?" Castle interrupts taking his own step toward the woman.

"There is not!"

"Is too!"

"Enough!" Beckett shouts, putting a hand between Castle and the woman. "Would you be so kind as to open the bag so we may see for ourselves?"

The woman releases her death grasp on the bag as Castle backs up. She opens the bag searching the inside zippered pocked withdrawing an attached gold key-chain and reads it. She frowns, her brow wrinkling.

"See."

"Castle," Beckett says raising her voice slightly.

"When did you find the bag...?"

"Edna," the woman utters, letting the bag fall loosely in front of her.

"When did you find the bag, Edna?"

"Day before yesterday," she admits, "It was just sitting in my alley. Right next to my place."

"Can you take us there?" Beckett asks, blinking in the afternoon sun.

They walk a few steps before turning down a darkened alley approaching upon a collection of blankets and broken cardboard boxes set in between two large dumpsters. Edna's home is organized, almost camouflaged from the frequent passersby. A large vent jutting out from the wall by Edna's bedding blows air upon them. The smell of BOUNCE dryer sheets fills the air.

"This is me," Edna says, pointing to her nest of blankets. "I found the bag on the other side of this dumpster."

She takes Beckett and Castle to the other side of the dumpster, Beckett immediately pulling out her cell phone dialing.

"Esposito," she says, her phone pressed to her ear by her shoulder, searching her pockets, "I need CSU down to 89th and Amsterdam." She hangs up her phone replacing it back in her pocket and pulls out a pair of latex gloves.

"Edna," Beckett says, hands outstretched, "The bag please."

With a bit of reluctance, Edna releases the bag, careful to keep a single finger on a strap. Castle looms over them as Beckett pulls out a flashlight to get a better look inside. They find a cellphone, a wallet and pull out a change of clothes, including a sweater. Beckett follows to Castle's latexed fingers which toy carefully with the key-chain within. She opens the cell phone and sees that there is no power. Beckett takes a step back removing her gloves and pulls a photo from her pocket.

"Edna, have you seen this young girl."

Edna, drawing the bag to her chest tightly, looks at the photo Beckett holds, a flashlight beam lighting the photo, helping her see in the poorly lit alley.

"Nah," the woman shakes her head, "I haven't seen her."

"So you said you found the bag here," Beckett asks, flashing lights of blue and red from the street drawing her attention away from Edna's face.

"I did," Edna nods, "I came in and there it was, just lying there."

"And when was this?"

"Yesterday some time."

"Can you be more specific?"

"Sometime after lunch."

Castle reaches out to take the bag from the woman.

"Hey that's mine!" she declares, "I found it fair and square."

"It's evidence," Castle returns.

"It's mine!" Edna shouts.

Beckett looks to Castle solemnly, who sighs opening his wallet, and pulls out a fifty dollar bill offering it to the woman in front of him. Edna laughs at him. He reaches back into his wallet offering her a one hundred dollar bill to which she laughs again running her finger under her nose, wiping it.

"Look son, I wasn't born under a tree. I know how much this thing is worth." Castle sighs again reaching into his wallet.

Beckett leaves them to work out a price, heading around the corner to walk back up the street. She meets Esposito who exits from a car, lights blinking on top.

"Go help Castle out will you," she asks, pointing toward Castle and Edna who continue to bicker, "He's trying to work out a bargain." As she turns to walk up the street, she adds, "Let's help Edna out tonight. Might do her some good."

As Beckett edges nearer to the corner store, the clerk emerges DVD disks in hand.

"Here's a copy of the last three days," he says handing her the media. He takes a piece of paper from under his arm and hands it to her. "Here. A list of our employees."

"Thank you, Jeremy," Beckett says looking at his name tag, taking the disks from him. "Do you know that woman," Beckett asks the clerk.

He looks down the road squinting. "Who? Edna?" He watches as she is escorted into a police cruiser. "Is she in some sort of trouble?" His look of genuine concern touches Beckett slightly.

"Has she been known to cause any problems for you and your customers?"

"Nah," he answers, "She never gives me any guff just walks on by. Occasionally she'll come in here asking to trade for smokes but I'll send her away." He smiles. "but no no trouble."

Beckett nods satisfied, "She's a bit of a firecracker." She hands him her card. "If you remember anything else. Please give me a call."

"Will do," the man replies and returns to his store.

She finds Castle standing outside. A stream of sunlight falling on him. He is watching Edna drive away with Detectives Esposito and Ryan, a wide grin on her face, her scent lingering in the air.

"You OK," Beckett asks placing the disks in her pocket, pulling Alexis' bag from his hands.

"I just gave her twice what the bag is worth." He seems jaded, surrendered.

"All this time living in this city and I can't manage to drive a fair bargain."

Beckett touches his arm gently and he turns with her. "Come on Castle. Let's get you home."

***

Beckett and Castle enter his apartment to find a collection of FBI and armed NYC department officers filing in and about the lavishly decorated apartment. Focused at the center, surrounded by several officers including one Will Sorenson, is Martha Rogers. Her head in her hands, she sobs quietly while another officer talks smoothly. Without a single utterance, Castle goes to her, treading fluidly across the hardwood. As he reaches her, the officers move aside breaking Martha from her sorrow. She looks up at her son disgusted and is immediately on him pounding a single fist into his chest.

"Where the hell have you been?" she asks forcefully.

"I'm sorry," Castle says quietly, shaking his head to an officer who approaches him with concern, "It's OK."

His hands move from hanging limp by his side to stretch across her back, holding her tightly to his body. For the first time in what feels like days, Beckett sees his shoulders relax; his mother his only concern.

"Kate," comes the voice of Agent Sorenson and she turns to find him by her side.

"Hello Will," she says, "How did the canvassing go?"

He sighs heavily. "Not well I'm afraid. You?"

"We were able to pull footage from a corner store where Alexis stopped by."

"How did you come across that one?" A sly smile spreads across his face.

She smiles slightly, "Woman's intuition."

"Tampons?"

"Yep." She reaches into her pocket pulling out the disks from the surveillance.

"You want me to take those?" he asks, "I can run them for you."

She puts them quickly back into her pocket. "That's OK Will. Pretty sure my boys can run them."

"Just saying," he pauses as they both turn their focus to Castle who is still holding his mother. "If you wanted to turn your focus on something else... " He allows his voice to trail off as she turns to face him.

"Thank you for your concern, but I'm fine."

Sorenson looks to the scarring on her neck, unable to meet her eyes, "Are you? Are you sure you're not the littlest bit distracted?"

She sighs heavily, lowering her voice, "My work ethic is none of your concern Will. Getting Alexis back safely is my number one mission." She turns from him, "So I would appreciate it if you do the same."

She edges nearer to Castle and his mother afraid to startle them, and quietly suggests, "Maybe you should take her to another room. Maybe to lie down."

Castle nods slightly willing his mother forward toward the stairs. She feels his presence and turns to find Sorenson beside her once more.

"What?" she questions, annoyed.

"Maybe I'll go down to the station with you. Give you a hand there." He reaches out casually to touch her arm.

She flinches at his touch putting distance between them as she heads toward the door.

"Will, just go do your FBI thing and we'll do our crumby police work."

She sees Esposito and Ryan enter the apartment annoyed with the FBI detail at the front door.

"Guys," Beckett says relieved to be rid of Sorenson, "Tell me something good."

"CSU hasn't pulled up much." Ryan says with a sigh.

"A possible shoe print," Esposito continues, "but it could be from anyone. We have some security camera footage being pulled from one of the subway stations but we are not going to have it until morning at best. Sorenson's FBI goons are all over the place down there."

Beckett opens her notepad, making a notation and frowns.

"What is it?" Ryan asks.

"Only the obvious," she pauses looking at them. "Osmond's alibi is rock solid."

Esposito nods, "He was at the hospital under armed guard."

"So he's got an accomplice," Ryan adds.

Beckett closes her notepad. "I almost didn't want to admit it," she pauses, "Selfish really. But still he's not getting off on this charge Scott-free." She points her notepad in Esposito's direction, "Let's interview his armed guards, make sure no one entered to talk with our perp."

Ryan and Esposito nod simultaneously.

"And how about Edna," Beckett asks crossing her arms.

"We asked her a few follow up questions, but she didn't provide us with anything we didn't already know." Ryan allows himself a slight smirk. "What a character."

"She's right up your alley isn't she, Ryan," Esposito pokes, turning quickly to Beckett, "No pun intended of course. Maybe we should give her his number."

"Of course," Beckett says as Ryan punches Esposito in the arm. "Did you guys put her up somewhere tonight?"

Ryan nods, "We did as you suggested and fitted her up at the Holiday Inn on West 26th."

Beckett nods placing her thumb in her pocket, "Excellent. Alright then, let's go with what we have." She looks over her shoulder at the stairs, "You guys head on down, get these started and I'll catch up with you in a bit." She hands the disks to her fellow detectives and turns to find Sorenson once again pressed too closely against her.

"Damn it, Will," she shouts above the noise in the room, "Be of some use and get this circus cleared out of here. And I mean all of it."

She climbs the stairs in front of her. The noise in the room diminishing behind her.

Once reaching the top, she treads lightly down the hall, peeking in the door to Castle's room and finds no one. She tries another door, held slightly ajar and enters finding Castle sitting on his mother's bed, her hand in his.

Beckett tries carefully not to disturb them but as she enters, Castle notices her and immediately begins to rise. His mother's hand clamps down on his own pulling him forward slightly into a sitting position again.

"Beckett's here," he tells her.

Martha is quick to sit up, releasing his hand, "Is there any news?"

Beckett takes a step in the dimly lit room. She can make out colours of rich purple and blue. A dressing chair in the corner. A feather boa draped across it. Behind stands a hat stand complete with top hat. Hints of gold sparkle about the room. The room has Middle Eastern flair; a Broadway diva's dressing room.

Castle leaves his mother to stand in front of her; a dim hope filling his eyes.

"The guys couldn't find much. We have some tapes of the subway stations, a possible shoe print. We'll be getting more in the morning."

"That's good isn't it," Martha asks, "I mean, it's better than nothing."

"We're going to run the footage we have right now and hopefully that will give us more of an idea of where she might have been heading." She takes a step closer to Martha, "But for now I just want you to take it easy and rest assured that we are doing everything we can."

"I know sweetie," Martha says letting herself fall to the bed, "I just want her home."

"Me too." Beckett adds quietly. Taking a deep breath, careful not to catch Castle's look as she turns and begins to motion toward the door.

Castle takes steps with her but Beckett declines, turning, putting a hand to his chest. "I think you should stay. Be with your mom."

Reluctantly, Castle agrees nodding.

***

Back in Precinct 12, coffee mug in hand, Kate Beckett sidles up to the white board. The picture of Harvey Lee Osmond looming at her, his eyes burrowing deep, she takes a sip of her coffee and stares back. Detectives Esposito and Ryan sit at a neighbouring desk and huddle together looking over the footage from the corner store.

Reluctantly, she pulls the photo of Alexis from her pocket. Turning back a corner that has been bent, she places her mug on the corner of a nearby desk and grabs a single piece of tape. With shaking hand she places the photo beside Osmond's, grabs a marker and hesitates, rolling the marker in her fingers. She backs up looking over the board, leaning against the edge of the desk.

She is unable to resist Alexis and her stare. She begins to feel something rising within her and as sorrow threatens, she finds a lump in the back of her throat, making it difficult to swallow. She looks behind her to find herself alone; Ryan and Esposito having gone to get a fresh cup of coffee. The office bare of other officers, she allows her hands to find her face, her back hunches. She attempts to swallow the hard lump in her throat. Her breathing heavily, uneven.

A hand on her back startles her as she looks up to find that Castle has joined her.

"Hey," he says smoothly, "It's OK. It's just me." His motions on her back are soothing to the touch and he leans in embracing her with one arm. She is aware that they are alone and leans against him as he takes a seat, perching himself beside her.

She stays silent, still for a moment before catching her breath, finally looking up to him, her face inches from his. "I feel like I should be comforting you."

"It would help me more if you promise me one thing."

"What's that?" she whispers.

"Promise not to leave me alone tonight."

Beckett says nothing, her back straightening. They both turn slowly to set their sights on Alexis' photo.

Without turning back to him, she utters, "OK Mr. Castle. You have yourself a deal."

Another moment of silence is shared between them before he leans away from her, looking at the floor, "Be honest with me. You can cut the detective crap. Are we going to find her?"

She turns to him rotating her body. "Hey," she says soothingly, "It's too early to give up Rick." Lowering her head toward him, she leans back into him. She can feel the heat rise within her instantly; his hand grazes the outside of her leg. She focuses on his lips as he looks at her. She lowers her voice, quietly adding, "We'll find her. If it cuts me to the core, we'll find her." Her voice breaks, the lump forming in her throat once more and she cannot continue, and instead looks down.

A tear quietly finds it's way down her cheek and he reaches out to cup her face with his hand; leaning in, inches from her face. Foreheads pressing, he says, "I know, it's just..." His voice trails off. She nods, licking her lips.

"Beckett," comes Ryan's voice startling them. Beckett adjusts her shirt. "We have her." They look over to see Ryan as he points at the screen. Castle is the first to reach the desk taking leaping bounds across the room to loom over Ryan and Esposito. Beckett reaches the desk and looks to the screen as the detectives move aside for her.

There on screen, standing in front of the counter, a box of tampons and bottle of water underarm, is the ginger-haired Alexis Castle.

"Time stamp says what exactly?" Beckett questions, excitement difficult to mask in her voice.

"Says 15:42." Ryan answers.

Beckett reaches into her pocket pulling out her notebook. "This confirms the info we have from Paige," she says. "Who's behind the counter?"

Esposito looks to paper given by the store clerk. "One, Maria Fernandez."

"And we have an address?"

"Yes."

"We'll be sure to stop by later but first lets roll the footage again."

Ryan forwards the surveillance a few frames as they stand motionless, quiet as they watch Alexis on screen. She pays for her items and leaves immediately. Ryan rewinds and plays the tape again; rewinds and they watch it again, a few times in slow motion, frame by frame, and then again in real time. Each time Castle twitches and sighs; helpless.

"Castle," Beckett starts but he holds up a hand in her direction.

She draws her attention back to the screen. Noticing something in the corner of a few of the frames. _Could it be_, she thinks to herself. "Ryan rewind that again."

"What is it," Castle asks.

"I'm not sure but I think I saw something."

Watching the footage one more time confirms it. "There!" she exclaims. "Do you see it?"

As Alexis is handing her money to the teller, a dark shadow looms over the floor, boxy, and square in shape only to be followed closely by a figure small. The shadow rolls by smoothly hesitating only slightly outside the door of the corner store and continues by as Alexis Castle exits the store.

"Roll it again slower this time. Give me frame by frame."

Ryan rewinds and advances the tape again, their focus falling on the shadow.

"What is it that you think you see," Castle asks, his eyes squinting.

"That shape look familiar to you?"

Castle looks closer at the screen. As the tape advances again, his imagination begins to put the shape into form; a boxy object possibly on wheels, a hunched figure.

"Edna!" Beckett and Castle say in unison.

"Get me a print out Ryan," Beckett orders grabbing her coat and another handful of photos she has lying around on her desk.

"You two head over to Maria Fernandez' place get her talking," Beckett instructs. "And we'll need to talk to Osmond's guard detail."

"Where are you two going?" Ryan asks, handing Beckett the print out.

"Heading to the Holiday Inn," Beckett says pulling on her coat, "We got another date with Edna, the hustler."

"I'm not so sure my wallet can handle another date," Castle says sadly. Beckett sighs, raising her eyebrows slightly and as they leave he leans down to add, "And another thing. Would you happen to have any nose plugs?"

* * *

_I apologize for the tardiness in my reply. I know a lot of you are loving it so far... hope I don't fail to impress.  
Update your avatar with something CASTLE and feel free to follow me on twitter... /starbuck0322. You can even hound me for the next chapters... :P  
STANATICS UNITE!!!  
Thanks for all my reviews... again... :) You are all truly fantastic! _


	14. A Chill Rising

_Chapter 14: A Chill Rising_

* * *

Upon arriving at the Holiday Inn on West 26th, Beckett and Castle were surprised to learn that the booking they made for the one and only Edna of 86th and Amsterdam had been cancelled. Together they now walk down the sidewalks of Amsterdam, a New York September night's chill rising in the air. There is a hurriedness to Castle's steps and Beckett finds herself having to take longer strides in order to keep up with him.

They turn the familiar corner, Beckett's flashlight out at the ready. The alley shares a eerie silence with the street, their footsteps echoing off the buildings to their left and right.

There is a shuffling of boxes. "Who's there?" comes the familiar voice; a glow of candle light from between two dumpsters.

"Hello Edna. Remember us?" Castle asks as they enter her living quarters. The dryer vent now silent, a stale stench is in the air of cigarettes and musty blankets.

"How can I forget?" She points down to the spread she has laid out, "You provided me with the money for my own little party." A fresh box of cigarettes and a cheep bottle of wine are laid out in front of them. Beckett is relieved to see the wine unopened.

"Glad I could be of some service," Castle says, shifting impatiently in his stance.

The corners of Beckett's mouth turn slightly, "I'm afraid to ask but was there something wrong with the accommodations we provided to you?"

Edna lets out a low chuckle. "As much as I would have loved to stay at the lavish Holiday Inn, if I had stayed I would have lost my primo spot. There's thieves everywhere."

"Indeed there are," Castle retorts, eyes never leaving Edna.

Beckett looks down at her dwelling, raising an eyebrow slightly. "We've come to ask you a few more questions."

"But I told you I don't remember anything," Edna whines.

"Really?"

"Castle " Beckett trails off turning her attention back to Edna. "We have a pretty strong reason to believe that you might have seen this girl we're looking for in passing." Beckett reaches into her pocket pulling out her notepad. "Where were you yesterday at approximately 3:30pm?"

"On my way to the soup kitchen." Edna reaches down opening her box of cigarettes and pulls out a pack. Taking a cigarette between her lips she lights it.

"How sure might you be?"

"Pretty sure. I could have been going to dinner over on something-something street over there," she says exhaling. "I like to walk. I like an early dinner. Saves being caught in the rush. I get two extra rolls that way. Not to mention I don't have to talk to all the others. See," she leans in toward Beckett, "I have a special deal wih the chef."

"You happen to bribe him?" Castle asks.

"Ha!" Edna points to Castle, "You're a funny one," then looking to Beckett, "You need to keep this one girl."

Beckett holds up the screen shot of Alexis from the security camera footage. "Edna, this is the young girl we're looking for."

Edna looks at the photo and flicks her cigarette, "I might have seen her."

"You might have seen her?" Castle asks, agitated.

"Might have seen her crossing the street. She was walking with a dark haired guy."

Beckett immediately pulls out a collection of mug shots, "Do you think you'd be able to ID the man you saw from a photo?"

Edna takes the photos from Beckett. Placing the cigarette in her mouth, she shuffles through them. Beckett and Castle both huddle over Edna under the light of Beckett's flashlight. She turns each one to the bottom of the small pack and hesitates slightly on the mugshot of Harvey Lee Osmond. She pulls the cigarette from her mouth handing the photos back to Beckett.

"I may have seen one of them."

"You may have seen one of them with the girl in the photo," Beckett asks, "How can you be sure?"

Edna says nothing but looks up from the pavement slowly, her eyes slowly gazing over Beckett, admiringly.

"That's a nice coat you have there," Edna remarks, her voice low, sultry.

"My coat?" Beckett questions.

"Yes, your coat." She pauses, her eyes returning to the pavement, "Must be nice to afford such nice things like leather. I remember there was a time when I could afford nice things like that."

"Enough already," Castle interrupts, his voice rising. He forcefully pulls the photos from Beckett, shoving them in Edna's face. "For godsakes just look at the photos and tell us who you saw."

Beckett places a gentle hand on Castle's arm and pulls him back from Edna. "It's OK Castle."

Edna takes another drag from her cigarette and looks to Beckett who begins to disrobe her coat. Beckett removes it slowly, gently, holding onto it for a moment before handing it reluctantly to Edna. Castle scoffs and Beckett shakes her head at him furrowing her brow. Edna puts on the coat, a wide grin developing on her face. The shoulders of the jacket tight across her back, the sleeves too long; Edna smiles at her gift.

"Fits like a glove!" she exclaims beaming at Beckett.

Beckett, her patience also wearing thin, takes the photos back from Castle and hands them to Edna once more. "Edna, please point out to me who you saw with the young girl."

Edna takes her time, and carefully examines each photo again, perhaps only to displease Castle. She finally pulls out the photo of Harvey Lee Osmond and gives to Beckett.

"Here!" she exclaims proudly. "This is who I saw with that pretty little red head girl of yours."

Castle comes to stand with Beckett who looks at the photo; her jaw loose, a furrow on her brow. "Are you sure this is who you saw with the young girl?" she questions.

Edna nods her head approvingly, her sights set on her hand as she runs her fingertips up and down the arm of her new jacket. "100 percent positive. That's the guy I saw the red head with." She takes another drag, "Pretty thing too. Now that I come to think of it, she did look a little frightened. Shame she had to go and get herself caught."

Castle leaps forward taking Edna's new jacket in his grasp; the woman looking more small and frail against his stature. "You didn't think to go to her rescue. You didn't think to call the cops." He breaths heavily on her, "You didn't think to tell us this before."

Edna lifts her arm over his and places her cigarette in her mouth. Castle reaches out smacking it from her face. "Look Sonny, I'm really sorry that you're all hung up on finding this little girl of yours, but I've learned a long time ago that you don't mess with the world if the world don't mess with you first."

"Thank you Edna," Beckett says, interrupting. "Castle. Let's go."

Castle stares deeply into Edna's eyes before releasing her. "I wouldn't even think of leaving town if I were you," he says gruffly.

Edna adjusts her jacket at the shoulders, "Gots nowhere to go son. No one that wants me. So you've got none to worry."

As Beckett and Castle turn to exit the alley, their steps falling back onto the street, Edna shouts to them. "Oh and another thing," her voice getting louder, "Thanks for the new coat."

Without turning around Beckett mumbles, "No problem."

The chill rising in the street, away from their heated argument, Beckett brings her hands to her arms and rubs them vigorously.

Without skipping a beat, Castle shakes out of his jacket placing it around her shoulders. Without searching for her approval, he leaves his arm draped across her back and pulls her into his body; his pace shortening to match her own.

***

Seated in the safety of her squad car, Beckett pulls out her cell phone and dials the familiar number. Quickly she turns to Castle, "Not sure if the Captain is going to like this late night request."

"Montgomery," comes the familiar voice on the other line.

"Sir, it's Beckett."

"What do you have Detective?"

She takes a deep breath and continues. "Sir, I need to bring in Osmond for follow up questioning. Tonight."

She can hear the hesitation in his voice, the resounding 'no' that is to follow, "You know that's going to be difficult in his present condition. His lawyer won't allow it."

She scoffs. "Because of a little punch to the kisser, Sir," she looks to Castle.

"He's taking part in psychiatric treatment. It's far too late for them to release him tonight. You know the strict guidelines."

Beckett turns to look out the window and lowers her voice, "This isn't just some random case, Sir. It's Alexis and we have a witness who saw her with our perp. It's got to be enough for them to bring him down tonight, no matter what time his bedtime is."

There is a long pause on the other line. "It's not going to fly Beckett. I hate to say it. The FBI are running 'round the clock on this one. They'll let us know if something turns up."

Defeated, Beckett nods slightly, "Alright, Sir."

She is quick to hang up, closing the cell phone with a sigh and turns to Castle who looks at her, the gloom and sadness still in his eyes.

"I.."

"It's OK," he interrupts, "I know you tried."

They are silent for a moment, listening as a few cars roll by.

"I'm thinking pizza," Beckett says, breaking the silence between them.

"I'm thinking I agree."

***

A few hours later, in the comfort of Castle's apartment, Detectives Esposito and Ryan sit together reviewing photo evidence from the corner store. Beckett, her head in her hands, sits next to them and sighs looking across the room to Martha Rogers who sits in nightgown a dry martini in hand, her vacant expression clear even in the dim lighting. Martha's feet are tucked under her body and she has wrapped herself in a blanket; Alexis' stuffed monkey held in her hands.

The boys arrived not long after the pizza giving news that the guards that was posted outside Osmond's hospital room did not allow entry to anyone during their watch. No one talked with Osmond; only medical staff were allowed entry. When Beckett requested a list of doctors who would have been available and on call that night, Ryan provided a short list of two doctors and two nurses who entered the room at those given hours.

Beckett's train of thought is interrupted by Esposito who sighs and sits back heavily in his chair. "So all we have to go on is the eye witness account of a crazy lady, who has bad eyesight and was quite possibly drunk."

Beckett looks to Esposito whose face falls as he looks to Castle seated at the head of the table. Beckett kicks Esposito under the table who turns quickly to her mouthing the word, "Sorry".

They both look to Castle who gets up from his chair, his plate untouched. He silently goes to his mother, pulling the glass from her hand, helping her out of the chair. The monkey held tightly in her grasp, Martha does not question her son as he leads her toward the stairs.

Beckett places her head in her hands and looks to Esposito who is rubbing his leg.

"Come on guys. There has to be more. We're letting Alexis down."

The boys nod simultaneously and look longingly at the photos displayed before them.

The shrill ring of Beckett's phone makes them jump slightly and turn in her direction.

Recognizing the number, Beckett looks up from her phone. "It's Will." She places the phone to her ear. "Beckett."

"Kate," Sorenson resounds, relief in his voice, "I'm glad I've got you. I need you down to Osmond's apartment. I have something of interest. Something you're going to want to see."

"I'll be right there."

Beckett closes the cell phone looking up to Ryan and Esposito. "Did you guys bring me what I asked you?"

Ryan nods, "It's over on that chair."

Beckett crosses the hard wood, searching through a pile of jackets. She pauses, having found Castle's jacket and drapes it over the back of the chair. Her fingers finally find the familiar fabric and she pulls out one of her leather jackets. Pulling it over her shoulders, she breaths in the scent.

"Thanks for bringing it guys." She looks up the stairs before grabbing her car keys, and turning back to her detectives adds, "You'll stay with him won't you."

And with the reassuring nod of Ryan's head, Beckett turns to leave.

***

A 35 minute across town car ride later, Beckett enters the musty apartment of Harvey Lee Osmond. The air is thick with the smell of rotten food. An old torn up couch sits in the living room. An old TV set sits atop a rickety case. Several books are piled on the floor. An empty fish bowl. A jar of salted peanuts. A small group of agents scan the room, searching for evidence. A lamp with no shade and a single bulb provides the only light in the room.

"Kate," Sorenson exclaims, meeting her at the door, "I'm so glad you could make it."

"Hi Will," she says, giving herself space as she looks about the room. "What do you have?"

Sorenson takes a step toward a table grabbing a folder and hands it to her. Beckett pulls several photos from the folder; her brow immediate furrowing. A sickness rises within her.

A photo of Alexis leaving the corner store; Edna and her cart clearing visible in the shot. Another photo, this one of Alexis running into Edna's cart. Another of Alexis as she is looking both ways before she crosses the street. Edna is seen behind her. The sickness rises now to the back of Beckett's throat.

"These photos were taken just before Alexis was abducted." Beckett looks around the room, tears threatening, "So whoever took Alexis came back here. She was here."

Beckett brings a hand to her forehead wiping the newly formed sweat from her brow.

"It's not all we've found," Sorenson exclaims.

He hands her another set of photos, this time of her. One of her getting out of her police cruiser at the front steps of Precinct 12. Another of Castle and her talking, walking the streets of New York. In another, Castle's hand to her lower back as she leads the way through a door.

"Kate, we have reason to believe that someone is working with Osmond from the inside perhaps he's the one calling the shots," Sorenson says, impressed with himself.

"Really?" Beckett scoffs. "You're kidding," her sarcasm thick.

"These photos are only a few".

Sorenson takes her by the elbow gently leading her to another area of the room by an old computer that looks like it hasn't been upgraded in years. A wall of pictures of Castle, newspaper clippings and book covers plaster the wall.

Kate sighs, "God, it's the Tisdale case all over again." Something strikes within her suddenly and she turns to Sorenson. "How long have you known about all this?" She holds up the photos.

"What do you mean?" he questions.

"You heard me." She folds her arms.

Sorenson face caves suddenly unable to hold up his demeanour. "What gave us away? Was it woman's intuition?"

"You can call it that," she adds, face firm, unrelenting.

He takes a step toward her, looking over her shoulder before beginning. "15 years ago this guy in North Carolina gets this taste for kidnapping little girls; little red headed girls. He takes them hostage meanwhile looking for bigger fish."

At Kate's furrow, Sorenson continues, "The daughter of a soap opera star. The daughter of a local news station. Each time carving stuff into their chests with this army trusted hunting knife. Lays them out like little dolls when he's done with them." Sorenson rubs his face. "He always asks for ransom and when the ransom arrives he disappears leaving us nothing behind but a dead little girl."

Noticing that he has attracted the eyes of a few agents in the room, he lowers his voice and continues.

"He disappears off FBI radar. 10 years go by and again same thing. A University professors' daughter. A TV star's kid. He escapes the FBI again slithering back into his hole and 5 years ago we found the daughters of a dignitary and another TV star. No trace evidence, all have the same M.O. leaving us with nothing to go on but the body of somebody's little girl."

Sorenson takes the photos from Beckett and continues, "The FBI let me review the last case. Osmond was our star witness to one of the little girls. I was barely in the force, still wet behind the ears. I didn't know what I was doing. I guess they thought I was fresh eyes. I interviewed the janitor of the set of the TV show; Osmond. Found a ton of hunting knifes in his little collection. No trace evidence. We followed him. The trail got cold and the little girls were buried. I told myself that this one wasn't going to get away from me this time. And then this; little girl is found dead. I'm so pissed with myself. I don't know how he got passed me. And then when you were attacked and the knife he attacked you with was the same I just knew I was right."

Kate looks to him flabbergasted, her cheeks flushed. "You know I really thought the FBI was better at stuff like this."

Sorenson reaches out to take her by the shoulders, lowering his head toward hers, "Kate, if anything had happened to you."

Beckett shakes her shoulders free. "These photos are from months ago, Will," she says taking them back from him, "And now Alexis' life is in danger."

"I know. I just-"

"Redheads, Will. Young redheaded daughters of influential people. You didn't think of letting us in on this when poor Jessica's body was found." She shoves the photos back at Sorenson; all eyes in the room now on them.

"I know. I'm sorry. If anything happens to her-"

Kate scoffs, fighting the lump forming in her throat. "Oh I'm pretty sure you don't want to think about the shit storm that I'm going to rain down on this concoction you call an investigation if anything happens to Alexis." Beckett turns on her heel, leaving Sorenson behind.

***

Beckett is back in Castle's apartment before long, treading lightly to his bedroom. His apartment eerily quiet at this time of night, she is comforted by the sound of his heavy breathing. She finds him in the darkness lying motionless covered in heavy blankets.

"You awake?" Beckett asks quietly, removing her jacket.

"No," he answers, slowly turning back the blankets, inviting her in beside him.

She hesitates for only a second before curling in beside him fully clothed. He pulls himself closer to her, draping the blankets over her. A rush of warmth and comfort envelopes Beckett's body which aches from the days events.

With his head above hers, Castle wraps his arms around her tightly and breaths deeply. Her shoulders tense, she sighs and releases, finding a comfortable place along his body. She grins to herself, thinking of how perfectly they fit together.

"I'm glad you came back." he says admittedly, a hand moving steadily on her back.

"Me too," she says, and sighs.

"What did the Fibbies have to tell you?" his voice low in the comfortable darkness.

She looks up at him, her eyes having adjusted to the low lighting in the room, "Rick, I don't want to talk about it right now. Can we just be?"

The corner of his mouth turns up as he nods slightly, "Sure."

They hold their stare until Beckett finally breaks it, searching his face, his lips. She brings her face close to his. His warm breath on her skin, she parts his lips with her own. Closing his eyes, he accepts her gift and moves his mouth gracefully with hers. His breathing increasing in time with her own, he slips his tongue gently in her mouth, searching quietly. They release themselves from the kiss, hands moving on one another; his fingers playing at the base of her hairline. Eyes searching again, they draw themselves in for another kiss; gentle, sensual. Finally he releases her, allowing her to rest her head on the pillow. Shifting himself beside her, he inches down to rest his head near her shoulder; his fingers gentle on the quickly formed scar on her neck. She moves her head allowing him to gently kiss her there; an arm under him, fingers playing in his hair. Held tightly in each others warmth, neither realise the days heaviness creep upon them, hurdling them into deep sleep.

* * *

_Broken Record Time: As always, I thank you for your dedication... It is truly appreciated._  
_I've had a blast writing this for you..._

_Oh and... Happy Birthday Babyratt08!! 3_


	15. Exposed

_Chapter 15: Exposed_

* * *

Kate Beckett wakes groggily, blinking slowly, feeling her backside cold. She turns from her side to rest on her back; the place beside her vacant. She rubs her eyes focusing, seeing a shirtless Richard Castle standing by his window. The curtains drawn, he looks at the city below.

"Hey," she says, her voice weak.

He turns with a slight smile, moving toward her to crawl in beside her. He props himself on his elbow, leaning forward to plant a single kiss on her lips. "Hey, yourself."

She smiles, closing her eyes to the live in the moment. "Did you sleep?" she asks.

He wraps an arm around her, draping it across her midriff. "A little," he divulges. "It's difficult to clear my mind."

She places a hand on his at her middle. "We should get you something," and at the shaking of his head, "You're more use to me if you've slept."

"I don't want to be drugged into sleep." He looks at her lips, avoiding, "I'll sleep when she's home."

She shifts her body resting her head against him, letting him feel the weight of her body. "Soon," she says altering her head to rest against his bare chest.

"I know."

***

Fully dressed for the day, with dark bags under eye, Beckett and Castle walk in close proximity to one another through the lower lobby of his building. Castle grabs onto Beckett's arm suddenly as they near a 'Slippery When Wet' sign placed in the center of the floor. A man stands in a navy blue jumpsuit, mop in hand, bucket nearby at his feet.

"Careful Mr. Castle," the man says, "Better watch the Mrs. there. I've just mopped."

Castle and Beckett tread lightly over the freshly cleaned floor; Beckett looking up at Castle smiling at the remark.

"Thank you," Castle says, nodding to the superintendent as they open the door to the outside world, the days sun slowly rising in the New York City sky.

Beckett turns to Castle. "Us being mistaken again for a couple; never gets old, does it?"

***  
The 12th Precinct is eerily quiet on this morning as Castle and Beckett enter, seemingly too preoccupied to notice Captain Montgomery who glares at them from down the hall.

"Beckett, what's he doing here?" Montgomery says nearing them, "For that matter, what are you doing here? You two look like hell."

"Thank you Sir," Beckett says mockingly, "We're here to call in Osmond. We have further questioning."

"He's already here," the Captain says, rocking from side to side, "Agent Sorenson is with him."

Beckett looks to him, taken aback and looks to the door of the interrogation room. "That weasel," she mutters.

"Detective?" he questions.

"Sir, with all due respect, Sorenson is going to make a mess of this. We know Osmond's working with someone. We have proof."

"Go home Detective," he says, and in looking to Castle, "And take him with you."

"But you can't send me away from this," Beckett says raising her voice. She raises the folder in her hand, "Solid proof."

Montgomery cocks his head and places a single hand in his pocket. "I can do anything I want to. Or do you forget that I'm the boss."

"No sir, I haven't forgotten."

"Sorenson told me about your little meeting last night," Montgomery admits.

"And it was by his invitation," she defends.

Montgomery shakes his head, his eyes widening. "You're too close to this one for obvious reasons." He looks to Castle.

"Sir. I have let nothing-"

"I can see it in your eyes. You're messy and therefore a risk to the outcome of this investigation," Montgomery sighs adding, "It was against my better judgment to let you continue with this."

"Jesus Christ," Castle mutters under his breath.

"No Castle," the Captain begins, raising his voice, "This is for your own damn good. If you want your daughter back I suggest you and Detective Beckett take a backseat for the rest of the way out here." He holds up a file in his hand. "We have a good lead. The FBI has jurisdiction here and I'm going to let Sorenson run with this."

"Sir, did Agent Sorenson tell you what he has?" Beckett takes a step forward, eyebrows raised. "About the photos he's been keeping from us. He's already messed with this enough don't you think."

"This jackass has been screwing us from the start," Castle remarks, his voice rumbling heatedly. "And it's all to cover the FBI's own ass."

Montgomery sighs taking a moment to collect his thoughts. "Keep him on a leash Beckett or he'll be cooling off inside lock up for interfering with the investigation."

Montgomery turns to meet social worker Maggie Anderson, opening the door to the interrogation room for her. She enters the room with Captain Montgomery taking a seat beside Osmond before the door closes.

"Fan-freakin-tastic," Beckett says as Esposito exits the interrogation room, closing it behind him.

He puts up a hand up as Beckett nears him.

"What?" she questions, "I'm going in."

"Becks," Esposito says carefully, "Don't make a mess of this. You'll be reprimanded and we need you." Esposito nods to Ryan who holds open the door to the adjoining observation room.

Beckett nods to them in agreement, lightly tugging Castle by the arm.

Inside the observation room, the detectives gather for a clear view of their number one suspect. Osmond sits at the center, his hands in cuffs. To his right sits his attorney, to his left is Anderson. Her long brown hair pulled back from her face, she looks to Agent Sorenson across from her, quickly turning away to rest a hand to the Osmond's back.

"Are you ready to begin Harvey?" she asks carefully, delicately so much that Beckett cannot refrain from scoffing.

"Sure," Osmond says, "Let's get this over with. There's a movie on soon and I want to see it."

"Alright Harvey," Agent Sorenson begins, "Sounds like a plan. We don't feel like wasting much of your time anyways."

"Good." Osmond says smiling.

"Because quite frankly," Sorenson continues coyly, "We don't think you're much use to us anymore."

"You don't?"

Castle looks to Beckett confused. She shakes her head uncrossing her arms to put up a hand. "Classic reverse psychology."

Castle frowns. "He's too smart for this."

She nods satisfied. "Exactly."

Back inside the interrogation room, Osmond smiles. "Agent Sorenson is it?" and at the nodding of Sorenson's head, "Tsk tsk Agent. You really haven't done your homework on this one have you?"

Sorenson lifts himself upright straightening his back in his defense. "What do you mean Harvey?"

"You really shouldn't waste your time using beginner strategies on me." He shakes his head disapprovingly, "Really?"

"You want us to cut to the chase Harvey?"

Osmond fans his hand out in front of him, leaning back to rest an elbow on the back of he chair, his hands still bound by the cold steel. "By all means," he says eerily, sending a shiver up Beckett's spine.

"We want to know how you did it Harvey," Agent Sorenson says laying out school photos of the little girls in front of him. "How it felt to hold their life in your hands."

Osmond looks down at the photos of the girls, their innocent faces staring back at him. He moves, placing his hands on the table and touches the corner of one of the photos with a delicate finger. The photo of Alexis is to his far right.

"These girls were mine." He says it more as a question and less of a statement, striking something within Beckett, causing her mindset to set into gear.

Sorenson barrels through his interrogation placing the crime scene photos on the table on top of the other snap shots. "Maybe this will jog your memory?"

Osmond closes his eyes wincing in pain. "It hurts." he says, bring his hands to his temple. He rocks in his chair.

"Does it hurt as much as when you strangled the life from them?"

"Stop it!" Osmond yells.

"As when you stuck your knife into them?"

"Please stop."

"Agent Sorenson, that's quite enough," the attorney, Mr. Denton, says.

Sorenson, breathing heavily, picks up the photo of the latest victim and holds it in front of Osmond's face. "Little girls Harvey. And you took them from us. I want to know how it felt Harvey because I can't seem to understand how you could do it."

Osmond breathes furiously, his eyes closed to the photo pressed against his face.

"You told me it was going to be OK," Osmond says, continuing to rock in his chair. "That you'd protect me." He cries now, his incessant sobbing resonating in the room.

"Who told you Harvey?"

"Corner. Walls. Cold stone. I'm not going back do you hear me?" He looks to Sorenson from behind the photo of Jessica. "I'm not going back."

"That's exactly where you're going if you don't help us. Tell us where Alexis is."

"Alexis Castle."

His eyes steady, he looks to Sorenson, his face returning to a pale colour.

"Castle. He broke my nose." He smiles, barring crooked teeth.

Sorenson sighs and takes a seat, contemplating a different approach.

Beckett reaches up and presses the button on a box to her right. The room immediately silenced in front of them. Beckett looks to Castle her face turning from concern to confusion.

"What?" Castle questions.

She shakes her head. "Woman's intuition." She looks to Esposito, her mouth hung open but no words are emitted.

"Well, spill it girl. What are you thinking?"

"There's something in him." She pauses looking into the room at Osmond who grins at Sorenson realising that he's accomplished something.

"What's in him?" Castle asks placing a hand to Beckett's lower back.

"I don't think Osmond had anything to do with this."

Esposito cocks his head, "But you were there-"

"About what happened to me, yes," she pauses, looking to Castle, "I think I was just a diversion."

"To get at Alexis." Castle says.

"To get at you." She looks to Castle's brow as it furrows. "Osmond didn't even react to the school photos of our girls. You could put any photo out there and you'd get the same reaction."

"Because..." Castle begins.

"Because he's never seen them," Beckett finishes. "He didn't even react to Alexis photo. If he's such a fan of yours, how did he not react to her photo."

"Because he's never seen her. He's never seen any of them. That's why he freaked at their crime scene photos."

"So he knows but he doesn't really know."

Esposito interjects, "But we already knew that right? He's working with someone."

"Not working with someone. Somebody's working him," Beckett corrects.

"Yes but who?"

Beckett places a finger to her lips. "The social worker!" Her 'aha' moment does not last long.

Castle rolls his eyes. "Come on. I know you have a hate on her but-"

"Just think about it," Beckett interrupts, "She knows him best. She knows how to manipulate him. She has a history with you. Has the connections to know where you live. Maybe she has something against you." She pauses seeing Castle contemplate her words.

Ryan flips through his note pad, "Only problem is her alibi is rock solid. Meeting that afternoon. Drinks with friends for the entire night. All parties have collaborated her story."

"Bollocks," she spits.

"Ooo," Castle smiles, "Missed it by that much."

"Who else?" Ryan asks the group.

"What's his family life like?" Beckett asks, her attention falling back to the file in her hands.

Ryan flips through his notepad, "29. Born and lives in East Rutherford."

"Ryan." Beckett says impatiently, "The stuff about his father?"

"OK, OK." Ryan continues, "Son of a plumber. Took over his father's business at the age of 16," and at the look on Beckett's face, "Parents both deceased. No siblings."

"Was he adopted?" she asks.

Castle runs a hand up her back, drawing her attention back to him. "You think there's a brother."

"I do." She looks back to Ryan and Esposito, "Are there any records?"

Esposito shakes his head, "Just him."

She puts her hand to her hip. "Well let's check on that. Dot our I's and cross our T's."

The boys nod and exit the room. Beckett and Castle look at each other and turn back to look in on the interrogation. Osmond sits cool and calm, a look of worry on the face of Maggie Anderson. Agent Sorenson paces taking a moment to look in the direction of the double sided mirror adjoining the rooms.

"That's right Sorenson," Beckett says, ire behind her words, "Keep messing this investigation up."

"Who the hell gave him a badge?" Castle asks putting a hand up to the glass shielding Sorenson's face from her. He turns toward her.

"I have no idea," she says leaving him, "But let's go clean up the mess he made and get this son of a bitch."

***

"You're going to love this," Ryan says as Beckett and Castle enter the bullpen. A wide smile on his face, he holds up a paper running toward them.

"What do we got?"

"Osmond was born at the Holy Name Hospital in Teaneck, New Jersey, January 5, 1980." Esposito says.

"And," Beckett says growing impatient, looking over her shoulder toward the interrogation room.

"Birth name Alistair Conway," Ryan tells them.

"Seriously?" Castle asks.

"Seriously." Esposito says.

"OK so besides the guy's awful luck at some bad names," Beckett says, "Was he adopted?"

"By no record that I can see but the original documents will be held by the adoption agency. The hospital is bound to have a copy in their records."

The door to the interrogation room opens, the frustrated faces of Agent Sorenson and Captain Montgomery looking up. Montgomery frowns giving final instructions to Sorenson and begins to take steps toward Beckett and Castle. Beckett grabs her coat reaching for Castle's hand.

"Cover for me," Beckett instructs her partners, "Meet us at Castle's later tonight."

"Detective," Montgomery calls out to her, "I thought I told you to go home."

Beckett rushing for the stairs, turns while still in motion, "Right where I'm going sir. Thanks."

When they are out of ear shot, taking steps two at a time, Castle murmurs, "That was close."

Beckett smiles nervously, "You have no idea. You've never been chewed out by him before." She reaches for the door to the outside, "Not something I'd care to relive again."

***

"Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD," Beckett says to the receptionist of records at Holy Name Hospital. A short drive to Teaneck and three receptionists later and Beckett and Castle were standing at the foot of discovery to the true identity of Harvey Lee Osmond.

Beckett takes in a deep breath. She reads the woman's name tag in front of her. "Sharon. Hi. I was told you were the one to talk to. I'm looking for the birth records of one Alistair Conway."

Sharon leans back in her chair, a heavy creaking emitting from the back of the chair. Castle winces expecting the worst.

"You see all the files?" Sharon asks pointing behind her. "These files are all confidential. "That's why there's a cute little door with a cute little lock on it right there."

Beckett sighs. "Thank you. I see that." She does not move which seems to frustrate the file clerk.

She leans forward slowly looking Beckett up and down. "Detective was it?" Beckett nods, crossing her arms. "I don't care if you were his Holiness the Pope himself. I can't give you those records."

"Sharon was it?" And at the raising of a single eyebrow, "We really don't have time for this." Beckett reaches into the folder she carries pulling out copies of the crime scene photos of the latest victim; her body contorted.

"We seem to think that the records you're so callously hiding from us will help us find the person that did this." Sharon holds a hand up to her mouth willing her stomach to stop from turning. "Her name is Jessica Andrews." Sharon waves a hand in front of her. "Sorry." Beckett spits putting the photo directly in front of Sharon's face. "Her name was Jessica."

Sharon waves both hands furiously. "OK. Stop." She looks up to scowl at Beckett. "You've made your point." Sharon stands looking past Beckett down the hall in both directions. She retakes her seat. "What was the name again?"

Beckett breathes a heavy sigh, "Alistair Conway."

Sharon strikes the keyboard furiously, instructing her computer through a series of screens, guiding herself through the system. She stops occasionally allowing the computer to catch up to speed. Finally, she stops and leans back, eyes wide looking up to Beckett.

"Alistair Conway," she says, rotating the computer screen so Castle and Beckett can see the entry.

Beckett traces over the information stopping, pointing at the screen. She looks to Castle smiling. "It appears our dear Osmond has a brother, a twin brother."

***

Stepping from the elevator of Castle's apartment Beckett's phone begins to vibrate. The superintendent from earlier stands in the hallway waving at Castle. He is dressed in his blue jumpsuit and turns a fresh light bulb into the socket outside a residence down the hall from Castle.

Beckett pulls her phone from her pocket, catches the number and puts it to her ear, "Hey Esposito," she says, "What do you got on our suspect?"

She can hear the excitement in the voice of Detective Javier Esposito before he has a chance to speak. "I'm sending you a picture of our perp now. New Jersey's very own Donald S. Conway. Been MIA for the last 20 years. This looks like our guy Becks. Real piece of work."

Beckett nods, "OK, I'll wait for the file."

Beckett holds up her phone allowing Castle to see the file as it loads. Piece by piece, section by section, the photo of Donald S. Conway loads in front of her. Castle looks over her shoulder, his keys stuck in the door of his apartment. As the file focuses, the picture centering, both turn heads slightly cocked in one another's direction.

"Is that?" Beckett asks raising her head to look down the hall.

The man before them does not notice their stare at first and continues to screw in the light bulb. The creaking of the metals in the socket, the only noise to be heard in the hall. Finally he feels their presence, lifting his head to see the stares of Detective Kate Beckett and author Richard Castle.

Standing before Beckett and Castle, dressed in navy blue jumpsuit, is none other than, the one, the only, Donald S. Conway.

* * *

.... .... .... ....


	16. Catharsis

**Rating on this story has been changed to M for Mature to be on the safe side.**

* * *

_Chapter 16: Catharsis_

* * *

"Conway," Beckett says aloud, uncertain if her eyes deceive her in the dim lighting of the hallway.

Conway looks up at them; a tight, menacing smile developing on his face.

Beckett keeps her eyes locked on him, "Esposito," she says low into the receiver, "He's here. Castle's."

Conway makes a small step backward causing Beckett to flinch.

"Stop police!" she shouts, a hand fumbling at her waist band, fingers trembling on her service piece.

Conway turns quickly, taking long strides to reach the stairway near him and exits the hall in a flash.

Beckett and Castle follow in pursuit, wobbly knees pushing them onward. Beckett is first to reach the stairs pushing roughly on the bar of the door in front of her. Drawing her weapon, she takes a few steps down; her skilled sight and hearing drawing her focus directly above her.

"He's gone up," she barks at Castle quickly moving past him, climbing rapidly in pursuit. She ascends steadily; Castle at her side. She can feel her heartbeat quickening, resonating in her ears, attempting to keep pace with her footsteps which echo loudly against the walls of the stairwell.

She turns, climbing another flight, hearing the snapping of a lock ahead of her, the opening and quick shutting of a door above her. She climbs a few more stairs, feeling a chill. She motions Castle to stand away from the door, pointing him to a corner. Cupping her gun, she inches toward the door. She takes a step back inhaling, and kicks the door to swing wide open. It bangs loudly against the side of the building. Her feet steady under her, she swings her body out into the open, pacing from side to side. There is nothing.

Castle pokes his head out quietly observing the roof top. A twinkling of stars above them; a sight so rarely seen. The nights air is cool and crisp. Beckett inches forward surveying her surroundings. She is quiet almost breathless, not much is heard around her but for the heavy breathing behind her.

It is not long before she notices; a small service shack standing in a corner of the building opposite a large water tower. The door to the shack is unlocked, held slightly ajar. Castle also sees it, threatening to jump ahead of Beckett who quickly puts out a hand preventing him from going any further. With the movement of her head, her eyes still forward, she instructs him with subtleties to stay behind her. He abides slowing himself, taking great effort in controlling his breathing.

Beckett regains her stance moving forward in a smooth motion, careful to keep her steps silent on the cement roofing. She reaches into her pocket drawing her flashlight, flicking it on immediately pointing it toward the ground. She reaches the door quickly, Castle still following in her steps. She surveys her surroundings and edges toward the door; her heart beating steadily in her ears, threatening to invade her thoughts. She blinks quieting the voices telling her of all possibilities. She quiets her breathing, surrendering to her reflexes; trust placed in her will, her strength and the piece in her grip.

She opens the door quickly, scanning the room in all corners. Several large generators are situated in the small, stuffy room and she moves around them with ease, returning to the door where Castle stands. His shadow enters the room, stretching long in the moonlight.

They hear it suddenly; muffled, pleading. Beckett shines the beam of her flash light into an opposing corner. Castle moves forward before she has a chance to offer instruction. But he has seen it as quickly as it came. It was all he needed to be certain; the flash of long, auburn hair, a glimpse of pale white skin.

"Alexis?" he says nearing quickly, reaching out to her. Beckett shines the light on them, Alexis' hands and feet bound by rope. Castle's fingers fumble at the familiar knots. He reaches out, feeling his daughter's neck.

"She's freezing," he says looking over his shoulder into the bright light, "But she's breathing." He turns back to his daughter. "Alexis can you hear me? It's dad."

Beckett relaxes her shoulders in relief. "Castle, I think-"

It is all she can mutter before there is a strong kick to the back of her knees causing her to fall forward. Long arms wrap around her before she reaches the hard floor; one hand to her throat, another holding a long blade to her shoulder, pressing aggressively against her skin. In the struggle her gun falls to the floor, skidding to rest a few feet from her.

"Don't be stupid Detective," the cold voice behind her instructs, the words slithering from him. He holds her steady, waiting for her to succumb to his grip.

Castle stands quickly, drawing the attention of the dark figure who grasps Beckett. His eyes blinded by the light which shone in his face minutes earlier, he blinks attempting to adjust to the darkness around them. Beckett and her attacker; silhouettes in front of him. Beckett's flashlight now rests at his feet.

"I wouldn't try anything stupid either Castle," Donald S. Conway says. "Not unless you want this to end badly on all accounts. I'm sure your daughter wants to see 16."

Conway holds Beckett tightly against his tall frame. The knife pressing into her, threatening to pierce her skin if she were to move a single inch.

"What do you want Conway?" Beckett asks with raspy voice. "Just let Castle and the girl go."

Conway breathes heavily on Beckett causing her skin to crawl. "Damn it girl. Do you really have nothing going for you but your beauty?"

Beckett twists against him, causing the blade to scrape her skin, his arm to tighten.

"It's not you I want you dumb bitch," he bares his teeth to her, inches from her neck exposed to him. "It's Castle I want." He looks at Castle leaning forward to playfully nip at Beckett's throat causing her to wince, the knife scraping deeper. "You're just the fun along the way."

"Let's talk about this," Castle offers, raising his hands in from of him. His eyes adjusting, he begins to see Beckett clearly before him, tight against the body of Conway. "I can pay you. Just let her go. We can let you out of here. I'll turn the other way."

"Oh Castle," Conway spits. "You really don't get it do you?"

"I'm afraid I don't. Do you care to share?"

"Do you really want to play hero here for your girl?" He smiles in the darkness, laughing deeply, sound emitting from his throat. "I'm much better with the knife than my brother is, Richard. From this position I can take her head off in one clean cut; quicker than you take two steps." He waits for the attention to fall back to him. "There are cuffs behind you on a hook Castle. Get them. Me and the Mrs. are heading out to get some fresh air."

As Castle turns to reach for the cuffs, Conway kicks Beckett's gun behind him out onto the roof top. Castle reluctantly holds up the cuffs in his hands.

"Good," Conway breaths. "Now come forward, slowly and cuff yourself to the door handle here." He points to the inside of the door to the service shack, the solid push handle shinning in the moonlight.  
Castle moves forward taking a few steps.

"Slower," Conway instructs, twisting the blade into Beckett's skin, causing her to grunt in pain. He looks down over her shoulder and smiles; his face clear in the brightly lit roof top. Blood immediately begins to trail down her skin, visibly dark and glistening in the light. "You don't mind if I poke a few holes in her first, do you Castle?"

"Kate, are you OK?" Castle cries.

Beckett attempts to regain her breath; panting, grunting heavily once more. "Fuck you," she says through gritted teeth.

He twists the knife again against her, pressing slightly, causing her to wince in pain again. Her breath stops as the knife edges further into her skin. "What was that?" Conway says, leaning down to lick the skin by her ear.

"I said," Beckett says taking another slow breath, "Fuck. You."

He presses the knife further. Beckett wails.

"OK!" Castle screams out to them, now bound to the door. "What the hell do you want?" His voice cracks with desperation.

"I want what everybody wants, Richard; everything. I want fame. I want to be noticed. I want to be loved Richard," he smiles darkly. "But mostly I want dumb fucks like you to notice what you have before it's too late." He squeezes Beckett tightly causing her to wince again.

"OK," Castle says putting up his free hand, pleading. "I'm listening to you. I'm paying attention."

"I live a lonely life Richard; no one looks out for me."

"You have your brother."

Conway laughs. "Did you even meet him?" His voice rising. "Doctors and shrinks messed with him. Even his adoptive parents... " He pauses reliving a memory. "They didn't want me in his life. Said I was polluted. That I'd fill his innocent mind with lies."

Castle remains silent, watching Conway intently.

"No, there was no saving my brother. True he was useful as a tool in my plan," he tilts his head to rest against Beckett, burying his nose in her hair, inhaling deeply. He looks up, eyes dark and wild. "God Rick. I had no idea she was going to smell this good." He takes another breath. "What is that exactly?"

"Cherries," Castle murmurs, looking up sadly.

A faint wail of sirens are heard in the background; Beckett's eyes widening with hope.

"True," Conway asserts, "It would have been fun to have my way with her." His arms still hold her tightly making her fight for breath. He raises a single finger. "But from the sounds of those sirens, it looks like we don't have nearly enough time."

"Time for what?" Castle asks, panic quickening.

"Time for the final act." He smiles wide. "Well at least the final act for our dear beloved detective here."

"What has she done to you?!" Castle asks, unwilling to hide the fear in his voice. "Let her go. Take me instead."

"This is all for you Richard," Conway's voice shaking. "It's all been for you."

"Why? What did I do to you?"

"It's not what you did. It's a lesson!" He pokes Beckett with the knife again making her call out.

"Stop it!" Castle cries.

"Do you feel it Richard," he pauses looking down at the knife. "Do you feel that pain in your stomach? The sickness rising? That's the pain I'm looking for. That's the pain you're going to feel for the rest of your life."

"But why, why are you doing this?" Castle pleads, the sound of sirens rising steadily in the distance.

"To make an example of you. To everyone like you."

"What the hell am I like?"

"You have everything and don't know any better. You are rich. You are famous. You are handsome. You have charisma, cockiness and power. You've got this hot thing with you all day long. And what do you do? Nothing. You've got no balls Richard Castle. You live every day with an air that's better than everyone around you that you forget the little things in life."

"That's not true," Castle defends. "You don't know a single thing about me."

"Oh, I don't do I?" he spits. "Everything is always about Richard Castle."

"Is this why you've been doing to those little girls? Teaching someone a lesson?"

Conway nods slowly. "None of them knew how precious something was until it was taken away. Sometimes you have to lose something to know what you've got."

"And Alexis?"

Conway snorts. "Your daughter is perfect Castle."

"I know that! Trust me," he shouts. "I know."

Conway pauses, letting the sound of Beckett's heavy breathing fill the silence between them. "Then I'll let you choose Rick." He straightens his back, causing Beckett to grunt. "Your daughter or our detective here."

Castle's breathing heavy now; his eyes dark and furious. "Fuck you, asshole."

Conway cackles, his shrill laughter filling the nights air. "Then make your decision."

Castle pauses looking to Beckett, looking toward the door to the stairs where they entered the roof top. Nothing; not a single sound but the ever increasing sirens seemingly at their doorstep.

"I'm _wait-ing_,"Conway sings.

"Castle, don't you even-" Beckett begins before the knife is pressed against her shoulder again, her words stolen away by the pain. She continues to breathe heavy, eyes turning to Castle, looking deep.

Castle sighs heavily, mouthing the words, "I'm sorry."

"Then there it is," Conway spurts heatedly. Looking behind him, he begins to drag Beckett with him, drawing nearer with each step to the edge of the roof. Beckett fights against him, kicking, causing him to half drag her to the edge. She screams with rage for any one to listen. Sadly it is only Castle who can hear her plea.

"Conway!" Castle screams, tears streaming down his face, "We can talk about this."

"I think we've said plenty!" Conway returns, his heels touching the edge of the roof. "It's time Beckett here takes her leave." He looks down at the street below. "It looks like a long way down Kate. I have half a mind to ride you down just to hear what is sounds like when your flesh and bone meets the pavement."

Beckett is motionless in Conway's arms; her breathing uncontrollable now. She fights through tear streaked eyes for the last sights of Richard Castle.

"Is there anything you want to say to her, Castle?" Conway asks, the sirens reaching the street outside his building.

"I'm sorry," Castle cries. "I never meant for this!" A hand furiously runs through his hair.

"Really?" Conway spits. "I go through all this trouble and that's all you've got. _'I'm sorry'_?"

"I love you," Castle breathes.

Beckett inhales deeply. "I know," she says. "I love you too."

Conway's face shows signs of pleasure. "That's better." He turns Beckett's face to his with one hand; mascara lines her face. "And now dear detective, I bid you _adieu_."

Conway places his lips to Beckett's, taking her forcefully in an aggressive kiss. Lost in the moment, he slips his tongue deep within her mouth, holding her tightly against his body. She bites down suddenly; his tongue clamped between her teeth. Her mouth immediately fills with blood. Conway screams in agony, gripping the knife, pushing it deep within Beckett's shoulder.

Conway lifts his head, mouth covered in his own blood. "You bitch!"

A gunshot rings out in the night's air, hitting Conway square between his eyes. His hand still holding the knife in Beckett's shoulder, he turns toward the street behind them, falling backward.

There is a flash of darkness in the night as tight arms wrap around the legs of Detective Kate Beckett, knocking her back safely.

As Castle's breathing returns, his eyes set forward, he sees a small figure with long, brown hair covering her face tending to Beckett. The figure reaches into her pocket pulling out a cell phone, "Sorenson. It's Stewart. Get the medics up to the roof quickly." She pauses. "Yeah. It's Beckett and it's bad."

Kate Beckett, fighting through darkness, through the horrendous pain in her shoulder, opens her eyes seeing the nights sky above her. She can hear the cries of Richard Castle to her left. She turns her head slowing, seeing him fight against the door, against his cuffs, pulling, reaching out through the air to her. Further steps on the roof top as FBI agents and police officers tread quickly toward her.

"Beckett," the woman above her calls out, gripping her chin, turning her head, "Can you hear me? It's Agent Stewart."

Beckett attempts to focus again. The woman who saved her, the woman who tends to her, begging her to stay conscious. Beckett blinks again staring up at her hero. Her face twists in confusion. For staring down at her, her voice fading in the noise about them, is social worker Maggie Anderson dressed in a jacket marked FBI.

* * *

_"One of the obligations of the writer is to say or sing all that he or she can, to deal with as much of the world as becomes possible to him or her in language." -- Denise Levertov_


	17. The Veil

_Chapter 17: The Veil  
_

* * *

Darkness heavy until eyes are opened. Lights flash atop police cruisers and emergency vehicles. The night's air is thick with sirens. Officers and agents scatter as they shout orders in the street.

"Kate," a voice calls out. "Kate, stay with me."

A door is opened to the ambulance and a figure emerges. Voices ring in ears attempting to focus.

"Who do we have here?" the voice above asks quickly.

"Her name is Detective Kate Beckett." The familiar voice of Richard Castle shouts above the ruckus, pulling at something within her. Raising her hand, she groans and attempts to call his name.

"OK Kate. Take it easy," the paramedic's voice resonates. "Try not to fight against us."

"How bad is it?" Castle again; his voice shaky.

Pain searing hot; she coughs, body convulsing. Blackness again. A voice calling out to her begging for consciousness. Peace awaits in this darkness as heartbeat quickens pushing her further into the quiet black where pain is not.

***

A cough and the taste of blood. The lights inside an ambulance. As gravity pushes against her chest, the pain returns. Heartbeat pumps fluid and time blurs. Distance is held in her eyes.

"Dammit Kate!" the medic says forcefully. "She fading fast."

"I'm coming with you." His voice; distraught, pleading.

"Are you family?"

She reaches out. _Let him come, if I don't have long._ Her mind attempts to turn reason to speech. _Rick._

"Rick."

***

Seconds tick by slowly on a wall clock, it's hands staring at the face of Richard Castle, taunting him. To his left sits Detective Kevin Ryan with a novel of his. He reads calmly. Detective Javier Esposito also sits nearby, sipping quietly on coffee brewed for far too long. Captain Montgomery enters the waiting room.

Castle looks to him with hope and stands. "Any news?" he asks Montgomery's face falls to concern. He puts a hand to Castle's shoulder. "Rick, you should go sit with your daughter. We'll come get you when we hear something."

Castle runs his hands through his hair frustrated. "Alexis is fine," he says, nodding his head, "She's resting. My mother is with her."

Ryan leans forward resting his elbows on his knees. "Castle," he begins softly, "She's a fighter." His words resound fact.

"I know," he nods. "I know." Castle looks to Montgomery. "I just don't know what to do but wait here."

Montgomery smiles shyly. "We'll wait for you." He pats Castle on the shoulder letting his hand rest there in comfort. "Go. Be with your family."

Castle sighs heavily. "But she's " he starts until something pulls at his gut, his eyes yielding to the pain felt deep wihin him. He tries to clear his throat; attempts to swallow.

Montgomery leans toward him, lowering his voice. "We know." He smiles again; comforting. He places his hand on Castle's back guiding him away from the waiting room. "We'll get you as soon as we hear anything."

Castle walks away slowly, looking down to his hand. His face wrinkling as he pulls his hand closer to his face. He sees it in the bright electric light of the hallway. Her discarded scarf left at the scene is clutched in his hand, covered in her blood.

***

She twists against her bonds. Dark silhouettes against white light shouting instructions in the room which smells of disinfectant; memories of death. Memories thick of her mother.

_Not now_, she screams but nothing emits from her mouth. _Not without him_.

Pain again, biting tragically, taking her body with it into a fit of convulsions. Instructions are shouted above the sound of alarms.

And she can hear it in the back of her mind, _"Come on Kate! Fight!"_

Unrelenting, the darkness consumes her.

***

He shakes, waking; his head resting crookedly on hospital bedding. He blinks twice, opening his eyes fully.

"Dad?" a voice asks softly.

He lifts his head to look at his daughter and smiles. "Hey pumpkin." He stands awkwardly stretching his back and leans over to kiss her on the forehead. "It is so good to see you," he says, looking down at their hands still held together. He puts his other hand around their grasp.

"You too," she says smiling.

He forces another smile. Alexis squeezes his hand lightly.

"How is she?" she asks, hesitant.

He allows his smile to fall; drawing each one of her fingers apart in his, counting.

"Dad," she asks again shaking his hand and reaches across to cover his hand fully with hers.

He looks up; the fight within him wielding tears that brim. "We don't know yet. There was so much blood." He lowers his head, a few tears escaping. "And I..."

Alexis coughs bringing a hand to hold her side.

Castle looks up quickly, face changing to concern for his daughter. She coughs again causing him to stand, to turn away.

"Dad," she says weakly. "I'm fine."

Castle leans forward feeling her forehead. "Sweetie, you feel warm." He looks toward the door. "I'll just step out and get someone."

She opens her eyes looking at her father. "I'm fine. Please just sit."

She takes a deep breath and sighs.

Castle cocks his head. "And who do you think the parent is here?"

Alexis giggles causing her to cough again; the sound of fluid in her chest. "Do you really want me to answer that?"

Castle grins leaning away quickly. "No."

"Then sit," she instructs, her hand held with his again. "Stay with me."

***

Electric shock and her body convulses, jumping. With it a heart beat forms again, steadily finding rhythm.

Gasps of relief around her as she is connected once more to the living.

"She's back," a woman says. "It's weak but we've got a rhythm."

Her eyes open and then blink back pain. A face blocks the lights above her.

"That's enough of that Kate. You stay with us now, OK?"

Gasping, she sucks in oxygen; a mask to her face. Hands prepping her;  
she twists.

A face in a surgical mask. "OK Kate, I know it hurts. But we're ready to begin and make that pain go away. You're going to feel sleepy soon."

"Please tell... him..." she says, but it is too late as she drifts into comfort.

***

"Honestly Richard," Martha Rodgers says entering the room.

Castle opens his eyes, blinking, seeing a sliver of light enter from split curtains. He sits bedside, in a low hospital chair, hunched forward, his head resting on his daughter.

"That's terrible for your posture," Martha continues, placing a plate of food on a table in front of him. The smell of it turns his stomach and he cannot remember the last food he has eaten. He lifts his head rubbing his eyes and leans back stretching.

"They have a cot right there, especially for that purpose," Martha says pointing to a corner in the room with her fork. She takes her utensil, aggressively stabbing at her salad.

Castle leans forward to take the hand of his daughter. "I didn't want to leave her side," he says honestly.

Martha lowers her fork and looks up at her son. Her shoulders falling, she cocks her head slightly. "Detective Beckett is going to be fine, Richard."

He breathes heavily and looks toward his daughter. "So everyone keeps telling me."

"She's strong. She's a fighter," Martha adds. "You need to have a little faith."

Castle looks down at his daughter's hand, playing with her fingers again. "There was so much blood. What if she...?" He looks up at his mother choking back tears. "The blood was so vivid. So real. I don't think I have a lot of hope right now."

Martha places her fork down and sighs. "Then write the scene," and at the look on his face, "It's what you always do."

Castle sighs heavily. "This isn't one of my books Mother. This is something else. It's called real life."

"But she is your Nikki Heat right?"

"She is."

"Then write the scene exactly how you would want it to turn out. That's the Nikki Heat you know. That's our Detective Beckett." She picks up her fork again. "That'll be what you hang onto. That'll give you hope."

Castle ponders it for a moment and smiles. "Wow Mother, I never would have guessed you'd use one of my tricks in this life."

"Never doubt me Richard," she says, poking at her salad aggressively again. "I'm better at this parenting thing than you think I am."

***

Giggling coming from an open doorway flooding the corridors of the hospital wing. A father and daughter sit cross legged on a hospital bed, the days sun streaming in on them from an opened window.

"You sunk my battleship," Castle exclaims, putting his hands up to his face in dramatic fashion.

"Again." Alexis corrects him, leaning back onto an array of pillows. "Dad are you ever going to beat me at this?"

Castle smiles smugly and looks around to the front of his game set. "You have to be cheating. I bet you can see where I'm placing my ships."

"Dad," she begins crossing her arms.

"Do you have x-ray vision or something?" He leans forward reaching out tickling her.

Alexis brings her knees up to her chest, surrendering to a fit of giggles. "Stop. Dad. I'm going to pee."

The two continue in their laughter, neither one noticing Captain Montgomery who enters, quietly standing by open door.

Finally Alexis sees a hint of him from the corner of her eye and taps her father on the shoulder. "Dad."

"What?" he asks, following his daughter's motions.

Castle stops dead in his movements, his hands still holding his daughter by her sides. Alexis acute to the worry falling heavily upon her father, rubs his arm lovingly. Castle, his heart beating rapidly, gets up from his seating position as Montgomery walks toward them.

"Sorry for interrupting," Montgomery says edging near to them.

"That's OK," Alexis says, "I was just finishing beating my father here."

Castle does not move, staring blankly. He waits.

Montgomery looks to Castle; a slow grin starting to develop on his face.

"She pulled through," and at the relief on Castle's face, "She's lost a lot of blood, but they have her resting comfortably."

"Can I see her?"

Montgomery cocks his head, "Normally they wouldn't allow visiting to any one other than family but I told them that the NYPD is her family and that we were having a hard time getting a hold of her father."

Castle stands, smiling exuberantly and looks to his daughter for permission.

Alexis smiles joyfully, "Go Dad."

"Really?" he asks.

"Go to her."

***

Castle stands outside room 2604 his hand on door frame. He turns slowly seeing a nurse exit nearly bumping into her.

"Sorry," he says brushing past her to stand in the room.

The room is dark, except for a small light in the corner above a bed. He steps quietly nearing the bed where Kate Beckett lies. Monitors around her, she rests comfortably with eyes closed. Tubes stick out of her arm, feeding her with fluids.

He draws nearer, afraid to make a sound. His stomach lifting into his stomach, he holds back the urge to topple and hold her in his arms. He reaches out carefully to take her free hand. Finger tips tracing across her skin, he tucks his fingers into her palm, feeling her skin with his. He brings his other hand running it smoothly down her arm resting at her elbow.

He looks behind him to the door, and in finding it vacant, leans forward to place his lips on her forehead. He holds his lips there, brushing her hair from her face. As he lifts from her face, he feels a change in her; her hand twitching. With shock reading clear on his face, he looks her up and down.

She draws a stronger breath and twitches again. He is silent, all but for the movement of his hand on hers Slowly she opens her eyes to look at him. It takes her a moment to focus but finally a slight smile develops on her face wiping the worry from him.

"Hey," he whispers. "Welcome back."

She smiles wider, looking at him. Her grip tightening on his hand. "Did anybody miss me?"

He grins uncontrollably, laughing with her. He sees her wince in pain.

"No laughing," she says, twisting.

He inches away. "I'll go get someone."

"No," she says, straining. "Stay with me."

Her grip is tight; her hand wrapped around his finger. "OK," he says soothingly, seeing worry on her face. "But I should let someone know you're awake."

"Please." She pulls on his hand.

"You're in pain." He leans down, compassion flowing from him.

She breathes heavy. "Just stay."

He smiles allowing her to relax her shoulders. "Its OK. I'll stay."

He runs his hand up her arm again and sits on the edge of the bed, placing her hand in his lap. He waits for her breathing to slow.

She looks at him through slits smiling. "So I'm really here?" she asks.

He entwines his fingers in hers. "You most certainly are here among the living."

"Good," she says closing her eyes, smiling again.

He draws her hand to his lips and kisses it.

"There was a lot of darkness," she says, opening her eyes to look at him. "I swear I heard my mother... telling me to fight." She chokes back a sob.

He is quiet for a moment holding her stare; tears threatening in her eyes.

"No bright white lights, right?" he asks.

"No," she tells him letting a tear fall.

He kisses her hand again, this time holding longer against his lips. "That's a good thing."

He watches as her body relaxes; her eyes closing, her breathing deepening. She opens her eyes, startled, and looks to him. He smiles. "You're tired. You should sleep."

She nods slowly, gripping his hand tighter. He leans into her inches from her face. "Kate," as her eyes open, "I'll be right here." She searches his face, and nods again, parting her lips.

"Kiss me Castle," she instructs.

He smiles, cocking his head. "Yes ma'am."

He reaches her lips, joy mixed with relief, heat rising between them. He pulls away from their kiss smiling as she lifts her head toward him. He falls back into their union, sweetly, and supports himself with one hand over her body, careful not touch her. He pulls back further, kissing her forehead and runs his fingers through the front of her hair.

"Sleep," he instructs.

And she does.

* * *

_Writer Ninja says: "The test of literature is, I suppose, whether we ourselves live more intensely for the reading of it." -- Elizabeth Drew_

_... ... ... ... ..._

_._


	18. Homage

Chapter 18: Homage

* * *

Anticipation growing with each ticking of the clock, the residence of Richard Castle utters release as keys enter the tumbler, turning slowly, causing a click to break the silence held within the room. Two figures enter; the broad shouldered Richard Castle, quickly followed by the tall, slim figure of Kate Beckett. Her arm in a sling, Castle gently guides her to rest in the center of the room. He reaches inside the collar of her coat and removes it from her shoulders. She smiles carefully to his offer, and turns toward him as he opens a closet door.

There is a shuffling inside his office and she catches the faint glimpse of red hair. She watches as Castle's shoulders lower. He utters a sigh of disappointment.

"Martha?" she questions, cocking her head toward the door.

Castle sighs again. "You might as well come out Mother."

"Surprise," Martha says turning the corner, her hands out in dramatic fashion.

Beckett's eyebrows furrow in confusion. Behind Martha a small group forms; heads rising above the next to look in Beckett's direction. Her Captain, Esposito with Dr. Lanie Parish on his arm. Detective Ryan looks over Dr. Parish's shoulder as the red hair of Alexis Castle is seen behind him. Other figures pile out of the room like clowns from a small car. Judge Markway exits the room followed quickly by the Mayor, a drink in his hand. Medical Examiner Sidney Perlmutter follows, entering the room with a more than peculiar look of happiness on his face. Several other faces emerge until Beckett finds herself completely surrounded by shining faces.

Castle places a hand to Beckett's lower back and turns her toward him slightly. "Surprise."

Beckett smiles uncontrollably, grin reaching from ear to ear. "I told you I didn't want anything," she says softly.

Castle lowers his head sinisterly. "I know. But this is my house and we're playing by my rules. So you're just going to have to suck it up Detective and enjoy the party."

"Ricky!" the Mayor interrupts. "Get the poor girl a drink."

Castle smiles and nods. "Yes," he says guiding her toward the kitchen. "A hero needs a heroes drink."

Beckett reluctantly follows Castle's lead following him to stand at the bar.

"Honestly Richard," Martha interupts. "You know very well that's my department."

Castle raises his hands in self defence. Allowing her to pass by them.

"I'm fine really." Beckett protests, her eye catching Castle as he smiles at her.

Martha shakes her head. "Utter nonsense my girl." She reaches below the counter pulling out a blender. "One sip of my famous margaritas and you'll be thanking me." She reaches for a bottle of alcohol and pours generously. "Mind you, I can't make any promises that you'll be thanking me in the morning."

Their shared laughter is interrupted by the sound of the doorbell ringing. A woman emerges from the kitchen dressed in a white blouse and black vest; a helping hand Castle has hired for the evening. Beckett can do nothing but smile at the generosity.

The woman opens the door and offers a hand to take a coat. Will Sorenson enters quickly and is followed by Agent Maggie Stewart, her long wavy hair hanging from her shoulders. The pair are dressed casually. Sorenson in jeans and a dress polo. It is the first time in a while that Beckett has seen Sorenson out of a suit. She chuckles to herself at the awkwardness of it; Sorenson's sheer inability to hide the fact that he was an FBI agent.

Agent Stewart spots them quickly. She tugs at the arm of Sorenson who looks up smiling. Beckett smiles back casually. They make their way slinking through the mass of people starting to pile into the room; agents and officers, some known, some not.

"Kate," Stewart says, kindness tumbling off her words. She gently takes her in a hug, placing a careful hand to her arm.

"Hello Maggie," Beckett holds onto Maggie by the hand gently squeezing. "Its good to see you."

"Good to see me?" she questions, throwing her head back. "Oh Hun, you're the one who we're happy to see."

She steps out of the way making room for an anxious Sorenson to stand with them.

"You look great Kate," Sorenson says warmly, and leans forward to kiss her on the cheek. Before he has a chance to linger, Castle slinks in beside them placing an arm across Beckett's backside.

"Hello Willhem," he greets pulling himself in tight beside her.

"Monkey."

Castle brings his fist to his mouth and coughs. "Loser says what?" He wraps his arm tighter around Beckett.

Beckett turns to glare at Castle as he mouths, 'What?'

Stewart sighs. "What are you guys? Eight?"

Beckett nods. "Exactly."

Castle glares at Sorenson who returns the stare. "Nothing much ladies," he says. "Just a friendly little wager that Mr. FBI lost here."

Sorenson laughs, looks to Beckett and then back to Castle. "We'll see about that."

There is an awkward silence shared between them, their eyes locked together.

Stewart rolls her eyes and looks to Beckett smiling. "You're looking great, Kate."

"She is, isn't she?" Sorenson exclaims looking from Castle.

Beckett blushes and smiles shyly. "I'd be looking a lot worse if it hadn't been for you Maggie. I owe you a great deal."

It is Agent Stewart's time to blush now. "All in a day's work Detective."

Beckett reaches out, lightly squeezing her hand again. "No. Really. I owe you my life. I'll see that you're properly congratulated."

Tears weld in Stewart's eyes. "Just seeing you standing here, celebrating, is enough for me."

The two hug again, the room falling silent. The two women pull apart from their embrace and look up to a room full of eyes looking in their direction. The silence is held within the guests before Martha is the first to break it.

"Oh what the hell," she exclaims. "To Agent Maggie Stewart!" she continues beaming with effects of the alcohol. " Beckett, Castle and Sorenson are handed glasses with a brightly coloured frosty beverage within. "For your courage and your heroism. For without you my dear Agent, we would not have our beloved Detective. And for that, we owe you a great deal."

A triumphant "Here! Here!" emmerges from the crowd, glasses held high above their heads.

Tears streaming down her face, Agent Stewart nods her thanks and accepts an embrace from Castle. His long arms wrapping around her, he waits by her ear and whispers low, "It's me that truly owes you."


End file.
